


The Call

by SomedayonBroadway



Series: The Operator [1]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 911 emergency services, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood, I’m sure there’s others that I’m missing, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, The Call, Violence, locked in trunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:41:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomedayonBroadway/pseuds/SomedayonBroadway
Summary: David Jacobs is out of the game. There was a reason he was a veteran operator for the emergency call-center. That is, until one call changes just about everything. It's a race against time to save this young teens life. And it all falls on David's shoulders.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. It is indeed 1 AM. But I just missed you guys. And I really wanted to post something.
> 
> This is the story I mentioned a while back. Completely prewritten. A parody of "The Call". It's a thriller. Very intense.
> 
> Proceed with caution.
> 
> TW: kidnapping, blood, violence, things left to the imagination
> 
> But please enjoy this angst fest that is oddly... Davey centered.
> 
> Well...
> 
> You'll see.

"911, where is your emergency?"

"I need a police officer, 119 East Central Street, 3rd floor. I got a woman here, she's stabbing herself and a child!"

"Operator 602, state your emergency, please."

"Hi, there's an accident on Highway 28, and I... I... Like, I think somebody's dead!"

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I'm at the Beverly Resort.

My girlfriend, she's..."

"What's going on there?"

"She jumped from the 12th floor balcony."

"She jumped off the 12th floor balcony?"

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Oh, God, I hit someone with my car. I hit him! I think I've killed him!"

"All right, listen carefully. Pump the chest hard 30 times. You need to count out loud, go ahead."

"911, what's your emergency?"

"911, where is your emergency?"

"Please, I need assistance right away!"

"911, where's your emergency?"

"There's a lot of blood, I know, but you need to keep pressure on the wound."

"I shot my wife."

"You shot your wife?"

"Yup. She's lying on the floor..."

"911, where's your emergency?"

If there was one thing that David knew, it was that his job was anything but easy. It was a stressful, mentally challenging, insane job that David was so grateful to have.

But it was days like these that made him wish he could be anywhere else.

"Christine... put the gun down," he ordered gently. He'd been on the line for several minutes now. He hadn't made any real progress. This kid was scared. She didn't know what to do. She was out of control and she couldn't stop it.

"I didn't mean ta do it!" she insisted, her Jersey accent strong and harsh. "I didn't mean it!"

With a shake of his head, David tried to figure out what to say next. "Christine, put the gun down! It isn't worth it!" he tried. He didn't want to lose this girl. She could still have a future.

Through the headset, David could hear the black and whites, screaming at this disturbed young woman, ordering her to drop the gun without an ounce of gentleness. David understood that. Their job was to protect the rest of the civilians. His job was to help the person on the other end of the line. "Put the gun down! Put it down!"

"Christine! Listen ta me-"

And that was it. The line went dead.

It wasn't the first time it had happened. But that didn't mean it made it easier.

For a second, the young man contemplated getting up, leaving his station for just a moment. He had every right to. It was a way to protect themselves from all the stress put on them everyday. So many lives put in their hands. But right now, David just prayed the next call he got was from a group of kids making a prank call.

He didn't need to get up. _The Quiet Room_ would still be there later if he needed it to calm his nerves. So, he took a deep breath and let his computer know he was ready for another call.

"911, what's your emergency?"

The operator couldn't help but let himself slump over just a bit in relief when an angry, but familiar voice met his ears. "Goddamn it! Why am I in here?!"

Letting himself laugh, David just shook his head. "Hey there Mr. Kloppman, how ya doin'?" he asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Not good, kiddo... I'm in jail," Mr. Kloppman began to explain. David let himself smile. This man wasn't a bad guy, just got himself into trouble a bit too much. The first time he'd called, David had been on the line with him for close to an hour as the old man gave him his life story. Not that David minded. He was an odd guy, but that didn't mean he wasn't entertaining as hell. "Ain't no one's tellin' me nothin'!"

Knowingly, David could only sigh and ask the question he asked every time this man was on the line. "You been drinking again, Mr. Kloppman?"

It was almost comical the way the man quieted down immediately. Everyone around the hive knew this man. They only got a call from him every few weeks, when he'd fallen off the wagon again. He'd had a rough life. Plenty of reason to start drinking. But he was trying to get better. "I s'pose..." he replied sheepishly.

Nodding, David just shrugged. "So you know what you have ta do. You gotta ask your DO for another call, okay?"

"... okay... thanks, kiddo..."

"No problem. Stay outta trouble, alright sir?" David asked, a small smile still on his face. It really was a nice break from all the stress.

"Alright, kiddo. Bye bye." And then that was it. David let himself sit for a moment, letting himself just breathe. For a moment, everything was okay.

"Does he still call you, 'kiddo'?" At the young, feminine voice, David spun around in his chair.

"Of course he does, Smalls" he responded to the small woman behind him. "It's a hell of a lot better than 'sweetheart'." She playfully rolled her eyes at him.

"That's fair," she replied, turning away from her own station for a moment. "So how's Les? Still a little rascal?"

With a sigh, David shrugged. "You know it. My mom just got him braces. The kid is not happy about it and I never get to hear the end of it," he explained. His little brother was certainly a handful. There was no questioning that.

Snorting, Smalls replied, "At least he'll have straight teeth when he grows up! My parents couldn't afford that kind a' sh-"

"Ah, Smallsie, always such a charmer ta walk in on," a voice interrupted. A grin spread across both of their faces as they looked up to see a young police officer walking through their building, right towards them, along with a woman of the same uniform.

Smalls, ever sarcastic and good for a laugh, looked around. "Did anyone call for a stripper?" she called jokingly. David just rolled his eyes as the young female cop burst out laughing.

"Hey, Jack. What're ya guys doin' here?" he asked, standing to his feet so that he could shake his friend's hand before he was pulled into an embrace.

Jack always was one for hugs. "Nothin' much, man. Just thought we'd stop by b'fore I have two little monsters ta deal with when I get home," he shrugged, letting him pull back and then slinging an arm around the woman's shoulders.

With a grin, Small's kicked her feet up onto her desk, twirling a pencil around in her hands. "Katherine, I understand that you helped deliver a baby yesterday," she commented, sounding almost impressed.

The female cop nodded, a grin growing on her face. "Yes ma'am. Seven pound, eight ounce little princess," he stated, smirking over at Jack who placed his free hand over his heart in offense.

"Excuse me, I was there too!" he insisted.

But the woman only laughed. "He was holding her hand and covering his eyes. He's the true hero here," Katherine corrected sarcastically. It seemed to be good enough for Jack who nodded his head and smiled.

"Thank you."

David laughed. He had the best friends. He'd gone to high school with these people. And college with Jack. They hadn't always been close, but he still absolutely adored them. In fact, they were now his closest friends.

"Really though, she saved the mama's life," Jack stated. The pride in his eyes wasn't something that could be looked over. It was so clear how madly in love he was.

A hum brought the officer out of the trance. Small's was staring at the with a sort of false admiration. "You guys are disgusting," she breathed before turning back to her desk and getting back to work.

Jack chuckled a bit, turning to kiss his girlfriend and partner on the side of her head before he stepped away from her and towards David. "Hey, can I talk ta you f'r a minute?" he asked quietly.

With a slight nod, David pushed himself up from his chair. "Darcy! I'm goin' on break!" he called as his boss walked by. Then he lead Jack out to the small patio they had outside. David's favorite place in the whole building.

The fresh air was always so nice.

He leaned up against the railing of the small outdoor space. Jack stood across from him, leaning back on a chair pushed up against one of the tables. "What's up?"

"Just about everythin'," Jack laugher, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. "I was wonderin' if ya finally wanted ta meet my boys," he stated.

Ah yes. Jack's boys. His little brothers. His half brothers. The adoption hadn't been easy. Not with the many potential guardians that were apart of all of their lives. Though, they were unwanted and never seemed to be good for anyone. Jack's family was anything but conventional. Their mother was anything but loyal or faithful.

"Yeah, I'd love to!" David grinned. The adoption had been closed a year ago. They kids were officially Jack's. And while David was one of Jack's closest friends, he still had never met the boys. "When should I be over?"

"I was thinkin' tomorrow night?" It was like Jack was scared to have him over it wouldn't surprise the young operator. Those kids had been through enough in their short lives. New people weren't exactly their favorite things. But Davey was beyond touched that his friend was allowing him to meet them. It was a big step for him. It was important.

"I'd love to, Jackie," he smiled.

Jack grinned. "Cool..."

Meeting Jack's brothers was the ultimate kind of trust. David knew that all too well. The stories had been everywhere. They'd been hurt as children. All of them. But Jack trusted him. And David couldn't help but be so incredibly happy.

But he wasn't done at work yet.

"... Then I want you to take the child in your arms and exit the building quickly," he heard Specs instruct as he made his way back to his desk. Jack walked past him and took Katherine's hand as they made their way out.

"See ya, Mouth!" Jack called as he pulled Katherine away from Smalls.

David just nodded and waved at his friend with just two fingers. "Later, Kelly!"

As soon as their friends left the building, Smalls was turning to David with a questions. "Hey, what's the code for multiple stabbings?" she asked in a rush, muting her call for just a moment as the young man tried to recall.

"Uh... Two forty-five," he responded in a rush.

The small girl nodded. "Thank you!" She turned back to her own call immediately, leaving David to take a breath and try to get back into the game.

For a moment he stared at his screen. He listened to the people around him. His coworkers. Some of he bravest people he'd ever met. This job was so important. He had to know that. They all did. It was crucial. They were protecting people.

He clicked on his space bar, indicating he was ready for another call. Instantly, he had one. "911, what's your emergency?"

"Help me! Please... someone's trying ta break into my house!"

The voice was panicked. Nothing David hadn't handled before. But it definitely brought him out of his daze. He sat up straighter. "Okay, okay, breathe for me, pal."

"I'm all alone! My parents went to see a movie! They won't answer their phones!"

"I understand that, buddy. What's your name?" David asked calmly as the trace on his computer began to run.

The boy was breathing hard on the other end of the line. David could hear him. "B-Benjamin... Neilson..." Immediately the man typed the name into his systems.

A picture came up easily. David allowed himself to vaguely study the face of the kid. Blond hair, grey-blue eyes. Lanky and tall. He was sixteen. "Alright, pal. I've got all your information here," he stated, taking a breath. "Can you get out of the house, Benjamin?" He was typing frantically. Just like he always did. The more information, the better.

"No! No! He's out there!"

"Okay, take a deep breath for me, kid," the operator instructed before switching his headpiece over to the radio. "Any units clear to handle hot prowl in progress? 23 Kinnard Street. PR is alone and hiding."

"Seven-Adam-Thirteen, responding!"

The man switched back as quickly as he could, feeling his chest tighten as those panicked gasps met his ears again. "Police are on their way, buddy!"

Benjamin Neilson was hiding behind a wall. He didn't want to move. Whoever was there might see him. All of the lights were off. The only noise that could be heard was a juggling lock and the voice of a stranger on the telephone.

The boy was about to say something else, beg this man to make the police get there faster. But the shattering of glass made him jump a foot in the air. He could hear someone reaching through it to get to the lock on the door. "Oh my God, he just broke the window! He's coming through the back!"

David's whole body went from somewhat to tense in an instant. He had to breathe. He had to be the strong one. "Benjamin, go find a room and lock yourself in. Right now!" he instructed, trying to think. That was right. Those were the right instructions. "Do not disconnect with me, okay? Stay on the line!"

The boy didn't respond. He just darted towards the stairs in front of him. He sprinted in through an open door and closed it as quietly as he could. "Okay! I'm in my room!" he stated, standing against the door. "But the door doesn't lock n' I don't know where ta hide!" he cried out in a whisper.

"It's okay, Benjamin! I need you ta stay calm," David tried.

But the boy was anything but calm. "He's gonna find me!" he whispered urgently. He looked around his room.

"Okay, is there a window in that room, Ben?" David asked quickly.

"Yeah..."

"Here's what I need you to do..."

The only place he thought to go was beneath his bed. It was obvious. But it was all he had.

Footsteps were coming closer. The board outside his room creaked. The kid whimpered. He wished beyond anything that he had a bat or a weapon of any kind. But he'd seen the outline of the man. He was huge. He'd be no match for him.

"Buddy, stay quiet for me, okay?" David demanded, seeming to sense the situation, even from miles away. "Don't say a word."

The boy didn't. He held his breath as he ears his door creaking open. The intruder seemed to think someone in this room wouldn't have already heard the glass shatter.

The man's shoes were covered in dirt and mud. They were old and worn brown work boots. That was all the kid could see of the guy.

David muted his end of the call again. "Seven Adam Thirteen! What's your ETA?"

"Eight to ten!"

That was too long. Looking around, David caught a glimpse of his supervisor, doing his own job. He zeroed in on David just as the young man threw his arms up helplessly. There was no way anyone was going to get there in time.

Benjamin was beginning to get dizzy. He didn't want to risk making a sound. The man was still in his room. He was looking in the closet. Behind the curtains. But Benjamin didn't move. Eventually he saw the man lean out the open window. He must've seen the one shoe he'd dropped down there. It looked like he'd jumped and ran.

The man didn't check beneath the bed.

Footsteps began to leave the room in a haste. The kid breathed a sigh of relief. "I... I think it worked. I think he's leaving..."

"That's good, kid. Just-"

The line went dead. David felt himself panic for a moment. The boy surely hadn't meant to hang up the phone. The man had to still be inside the house. He'd told him to stay on the line.

In a moment of pure panic, of idiocy, David called back.

That meant the phone rang.

Benjamin answered the call immediately. "I don't know where he is!" he hissed, terrified.

"Benjamin-"

"Oh my God, I think he's coming back!"

All David felt was nauseous. "Kid-"

"I think he heard the phone ring!" He cried, trying to push himself from his hiding place. He had to get up. He could hear the man coming back. He could fight. He could-

David heard the boy scream in pure terror. "Benjamin?!"

Benjamin struggled beneath a huge man who'd just ripped him from his safe haven. "Let go! Let go!" he demanded, trying so hard not to sound completely horrified.

"Kid-" David's heart sped up. He tried desperately to figure out what to do next. The boy more than likely didn't have the phone by his ear anymore. He was stuck, listening to a child beg somebody to just let him go.

"Shut up!" another voice screamed.

"Get offa-" Benjamin let out a muffled sob when a strong hand rushed to cover his mouth.

Then the man reached for the phone.

And David could hear his quick, irregular breaths. Something told him that this was more than some burglary. He'd gone after the kid specifically. There was more to this. And that scared him.

He'd given the kid away.

"Wh-whoever this is... the police are on their way to that house right now," he stated carefully, trying not to let his voice shake too much. He felt his hands begin to tremble as his face went pale. "The only thing for you to do is let that boy go..."

This is what a panic attack felt like.

This was his fault. He'd given the kid away. He'd made a mistake.

"I suggest you leave that house before you do something you regret... you do not have to do this..."

The breathing was quick. But the man wasn't scared. He was angry. Driven by grief and adrenaline. He looked the boy up and down as he struggled below him. He pinned the boy's arms beneath his knees as he reached to run a demeaning hand through his hair. And, without truly even thinking about it, he let out a small, but horrifying reply.

"It's already done."

Benjamin screamed.

And then the line went dead.

David couldn't breathe. The trace disappeared. The picture faded. He knew he wasn't supposed to panic. He knew he wasn't supposed to not know what to do. He knew he was supposed to have the answers and the fix.

He knew he wasn't supposed to call back when there was an intruder. _What did I just do?_

Ripping off his headset, David ran. He ran to the Quiet Room as those three words echoed in his brain.

_It's already done._

That boy was targeted. He didn't know why, but he was.

The door slammed shut behind him. He was the only one in the room. He stepped away, pacing as he tried to get his limbs to stop shaking. "Oh, God..." he breathed, reaching up a trembling hand to run through his hair.

The door was opened behind him. The man flinched as he whirled around, his vision blurred as tears filled up in his eyes.

 _"It's already done."_ It was all he could hear. Over and over again. Even as he barely made out the form of his boss standing before him.

"What the hell was that?" Oh great. Darcy has been listening to his call. Of all things. "That ring gave him away." The older man was scolding him like David didn't already know. Like David wasn't tearing himself up right now. It must've taken the man a moment to see the tears in David's eyes. Because he expression softened. "Just... help me out here. What were you thinking?"

Immediately, David shrugged, completely at a loss for words. He could still hear Benjamin screaming. "I... I wasn't... I..." He could hardly speak anymore. Nothing was coming out right. "I don't know... I didn't..." He still couldn't breathe. "I'm just normally... I wasn't focused like I usually am and I... I don't know..."

He could've vomited right then and there. A child had just been kidnapped.

And it was his fault.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We just made ten review! (Thank you to bexlynne who is literally sitting right next to me) so I am back with another chapter!
> 
> This one is a little shorter than the last, but don’t worry! The next chapter is going up on Monday!
> 
> Unless we go to... 15 reviews?
> 
> But we might have to wait.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

It was all over the news. Everywhere. Benjamin Neilson, allegedly kidnapped; taken right out of his own bedroom in the middle of the night. Anyone with any information was supposed to come forward. To save this boy’s life.

David hadn’t slept the night before. This was his doing. One stupid mistake might’ve cost this little boy his life.

”Hey, Davey... Smalls told me what happened last night n’... just let me know you’re alright, okay? I know that this’s gotta be hard but... talkin’ about it might help...”

David had chucked his phone across the room when he’d gotten Jack’s voicemail that morning. Everyone new. This was his fault.

It was hard to get out of bed that morning. It was hard to face the facts. That was all real. It had actually happened. And now, a sixteen year old was most likely fighting for his life in the hands of a complete stranger. He’d been a target and David didn’t know why and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

And he couldn’t stop hearing about his failure.

It was part of the job. He knew it was. There would be bad calls sometimes. Sometimes, bad things happened. And he couldn’t control them. But this seemed to be the one that was pushing him over the edge.

“L.A. county police continue their search for missing teen Leah Templeton, who was allegedly abducted from her home in Hancock Park last night. L.A.P.D. sources say the lack of witnesses and evidence in the case are frustrating the effort. Templeton's family issued a statement late last night...” The stereo in his old car was too loud. He slammed his hand over the button that would shut it off.

He only missed four times. The heel of his hand hurt after that. He was sure there would be a bruise.

The second he’d walked into his place of work, he couldn’t feel anything but anxiety. Phones were ringing everywhere. People were talking quickly and furiously and trying so hard to be the one thing standing between the caller and death itself.

His desk seemed so far away all of the sudden. There was an odd kind of feeling in his chest as he forced himself to take a step forward. He couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the place he had loved so much just yesterday. It was stressful for sure. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t completely necessary.

As he passed by Smalls, the young woman turned to him, just having finished up he last call. “Hey there, Mouth,” she called in her always seemingly sarcastic tone. David hated that Jack’s nickname for him had caught on. Sure, he liked to argue with the other man, but seriously, that was the best he could do?

“Hey, Smallsie,” he forced out, just as he reached his desk.

He was supposed to sit down now. That’s what came next. But he couldn’t move. He could only stare. The screams still bounced around in his brain, taunting him.

Smalls still had not taken another call. “Ya gonna be okay, Davey?” she asked. It was odd to hear this kind of concern from such a tough, _suck it up_ kind of woman.

All David could do was nod, mutely. Suddenly, it felt as though he couldn’t speak. But he forced himself down to the chair, scooting himself forward and letting his hands hover over his spacebar. He had to click it to let the computer know he was ready for a call. But his hands were still trembling. He wasn’t sure they’d ever stopped.

He tried to take a breath. Tried to steady himself. He did this everyday. This was normal. This was what happened everyday. There were some bad calls. There always would be.

He hit the spacebar.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

The scream that met his ear made David flinch.

Panic courses through David’s veins. Someone was dying. He was going to get someone killed. He froze. His lips were glued together. He couldn’t speak. He could hardly breathe.

“Get someone here! Please! Please get someone here!” The man was trying like hell to snap out of it. It was like the entire weight of the world was suddenly rest on his shoulders. “Please! Please send help!”

The man completely froze up. All he could hear was Benjamin’s panicked cry before the call was ended.

“Hello?! Are you there?” a woman cried over the phone. “There is a bat in my daughter’s bedroom! Please get somebody!”

Immediately, some kind of relief fell over David. He could handle this. It was going to be okay. “Yeah... yeah, I’m here,” he assured as he typed things out on his computer. “I’m sending you animal control. They’ll be there soon, okay?”

The woman gasped a view times, seeming to calm down. “Okay... Thank you...” and just like that, she hung up. David couldn’t help but sag in relief.

This was bad. Really bad. He’s frozen. Right there. In the midst of a call he’d just stopped. “Pull it together, Jacobs,” he hissed at himself, sure that no one else could hear him. “You got it... you’re fine...” He blinked the tears from his eyes as he forced his fingers to click down on the spacebar once again.

“Goddamn it! What’d I do now?”

At the familiar voice, David felt himself smile a bit. This, he could handle. “Hey, Mr. Kloppman. How ya doin’?” he asked, glad for the familiar distraction.

“Not good, kiddo! They put me in jail again...” The operator was content to let the man ramble about his misfortune. It was fine. The small issue was nice. It wasn’t an emergency. David was okay.

Until he spun around and caught sight of the giant screen displaying the news.

He stood up quick, ripping the headset off as he recognized the boy’s picture on the screen. Benjamin Neilson. _Missing Teen Found Dead_.

It was like a train wreck. He fought like hell to look away but he couldn’t. He could only watch helplessly as the helicopter’s cameraman got a shot of the body being dug out of the ground. The entirety of the kid’s body was blurred. Because he had no clothes on. The picture wasn’t clear. Details wouldn’t be released that easily.

But David’s imagination was running wild. So he did too.

Anything to just get out of there for a minutes. This was his fault. That child was dead and it was his fault.

“Everyone’s lookin’ for ya down there...”

Jack’s voice hardly brought David out of his daze. He could hardly look up from the city below them. Somehow, he’d made it up to the roof of the building. Somehow he’d sat on the ledge, letting his feet dangle above Manhattan. Somehow, it had been two hours. And the man could hardly bring himself to care.

His best friend sat beside him, watching him simply nod, still speechless. “You know they can’t run that place without you, yeah?” he asked, pointing back inside where he was supposed to be. David did not respond. He just sat silently with his legs swinging over the big city. “Davey... talk ta me. Why’re ya beating yourself up over this? You’ve had bad calls before...” Jack sighed, though his tone was sympathetic and light. He was just trying to understand.

But David hardly understood himself. He’d had bad calls before. Jack was right. But this one... it was the one that seemed to trump them all. “You know my dad was a cop, right? Before he... um...” Jack nodded, not wanting the other man to go into much, knowing how painful it was to speak of the accident. The one that was the reason David had been tasked with providing for his family since he was just sixteen. “Well... he told me once that the hardest part about bein’ a cop was knowin’ that you might be the only thing standing between someone living and someone dyin’...”

Jack nodded. That much was true. It was something he thought about everyday.

“And once ya can’t shoulder it no more... it’s time ta get out...” David finished, taking in a deep breath. He wondered what would’ve happened if someone else had gotten Benjamin’s call. If he hadn’t made that stupid mistake, maybe the kid would still be alive.

It was clear there was nothing Jack could say to change the man’s mind. He knew this man. They’d been friends for a while. And he had been damn good at what he did. But if he thought this was the right step, there was no way he wasn’t taking it. “So that’s it, huh?” he questioned. “Just like that David Jacobs is outta the game?”

All David could do was shrug. “I dunno... yes? It’s just... that kid-“

Quickly slinging an arm around the other man’s shoulders, Jack shook his head, silently telling him not to continue. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t the one that had taken that little boy to his death. “Look... I just need ya ta know that you got me, yeah? Always...”

David nodded, looking out over the big city again. One that carried on even though a little boy that had once thrived in it was gone.

“Always,” he agreed, lifting up his left hand. Jack shook it immediately. David couldn’t help but be grateful he’d grown out of the spit shake that Jack had always done throughout high school.

David didn’t go to dinner that night to meet Jack’s boys. David had gone to a bar, gotten blackout drunk and fallen asleep hanging off of Jack while he practically dragged him to an Uber. He’d just wanted to forget.

But those words still played over and over in his brain.

_”It’s already done.”_

And now it was over for David. The words and an ear shattering scream proved to be his undoing. David couldn’t shoulder it anymore.

David Jacobs was out of the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! So there will be thirteen chapters total for this fic. So let me know if you wanna see them!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn’t, what you’d change or what you’d improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, kiddos!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Monday!
> 
> Ready for something bad to happen?
> 
> Please enjoy!

"So... you're tellin' me that you ain't neva' been out? On an actual date?"

"You've met my brother, Albert. The man is a cop! He's the cop an' we're the criminals. He don't trust me," the blond boy laughed. "That's how it works."

Albert rolled his eyes. "Please, Racer," the boy scoffed. "You ain't just out messin' around n' Jack knows it. I barely eva' even hear you cuss," he teased.

The boys stepped onto the escalator of the mall they were wandering around. "Whateva'," Race responded, knowing his friend thought he was soft. He didn't truly care. This was his best friend. They still loved each other. No matter what.

"Seriously though," Albert insisted. "Just once I want ya ta come ova' ta my house n' get high or drunk, just like every otha' teenager you know! You only get ta be fifteen once."

This was how Albert thought. Race didn't agree. After all, his guardian, his big brother, was a cop. If he got busted, he had Jack to answer to. Little did his friend know he had a pack of cigarettes hiding beneath his pillow. He was a teenager. A troubled one, at that. But no one could know. That was not a good situation to be in. Especially since it has taken them so long to finalize the adoption. "I've gotten high with you before, Al. Now leave me alone n' let me be innocent!" he cried dramatically, hearing Albert laugh at him.

"Whateva', man. With that necklace on, you ain't neva' gettin' a date anyways, by the way." Race subconsciously reached up for the small thing. A gift. From his baby brother. He wore it everyday. It was important to him. Just a simple black string with a small guitar pick encased in rubber. It was so important.

They made it to the upper part of the giant mall. Albert wrapped an arm around his best friend's shoulders as they walked just as Race shoved his hand in his pocket and sipped at the smoothie in his hand. Just as he was about to speak, a phone rang. And he groaned. "Oh gimme a break..." He glared over at the phone in the redhead's hand as the other boy grinned a bit too wide.

"Oh c'mon, just cause you's single don't mean you gotta be pissy about my girl callin' me." That was not why Race was _pissy_ , as Albert had pointed out. Race was annoyed because of the small, cheap cell that his friend pulled out of his pocket.

"Al... you don't find it odd that you's datin' a twenty two year old who bought you your own phone specifically for her calls?" he asked, pulling out from beneath the other boy's arm.

Placing a hand over his heart, Albert fiend offense. "She bought me this because she wants us to have a special phone just for each other," he corrected, like Race should've known that.

But the blond was quick to respond. "She bought you that ta keep tabs on you, ya idiot." He was only mostly joking. He really should talk to Jack about this. It couldn't be legal. Right?

"Whatever, you're just jealous," Albert decided. And just like that, he was walking away, the phone beside his ear. "Hey, Ronnie, baby. How are ya?" He turned around to wink at Rave who could only shake his head and pull out his phone to Snapchat this. His best friend was pathetic. "No no, I'm just hangin' out with TJ," he smirked, sticking his tongue out at Race who only rolled his eyes in response. "Ya want me ta do want ta you?" he asked excitedly.

Sometimes, Race really hated his best friend. But somehow, all he could do was laugh.

"So first you're gonna notice patterns. Behavioral changes in very predictable ways." It was always interesting to David, leading around a group of new trainees. He enjoyed watching them, seeing their reactions, responding to their odd but necessary questions. He could pick out the few that would last. Most of them wouldn't. "Rising temperatures means rising tempers, so we get the violent calls. Rainy days and Christmas, it's gloomy outside, sometimes people are alone, that's when we get the suicides," he explained, with little to no emotion. He'd learned that was the best way to do it.

This was no easy job. It was best that they learned that now. "Now, Saturday mornings are generally very slow and calm times, and I think that's because people are at home probably recovering from Friday night." Woman with the glasses at the end of the line, she'd be gone by the end of the week. The man with the newsboy cap... David was hardly sure he'd make it till the end of the day. He was much to laid back. "Why? What happens Friday night?" he asked calmly, looking around for anybody that may know the answer. No one did. "All hell breaks loose."

Brunette in the front would last a little more than a month before she cracked. "Half your calls are gonna be non-emergencies." The relief that brought half the group was adorable to David. That didn't mean that those calls weren't still stressful. "Half of those, that's gonna be someone asking for directions to Starbucks or how to baste a turkey." This got a bit of a laugh out of the group. There were about eleven of them. If David was a betting man, which he was not, he'd say two of them would make it a full year and beyond. "Go ahead, laugh at that, that's good," he assured, leading them up the stairs and just above the place that was practically his second home where phones were ringing like crazy and his old coworkers were dong everything in their power to keep their caller calm. "That's gonna prepare you for real stuff. The jumpers, the home invasions, the triple homicides, the gang-banging..."

The boy in the pink hoodie went pale. That poor kid wanted to walk away right then. And David wouldn't have blamed him. "You've seen the Quiet Room," he stated, pointing back in the direction of a room he knew a little too well. "That's where we go to decompress after a bad call." Lord knows there had been bad calls. "But if you need anything more than a nap and some Muzak, then you have to call our BSS," he informed, not looking at the new little babies that were about to be settled in at a desk of their own. "That's behavioral science specialist. His name is Dr. Keating, he's on call twenty-four-seven. Any time any of you need to talk..."

"Talk about what?" It was a man in the very front. One that no doubt thought he'd make it far. David wasn't too sure.

Gesturing to the kid, David nodded. "What was your name again?"

"Tommy."

"Okay, listen, Tommy," David began slowly, looking around the place he loved so much and the bravest people he'd ever met in his life. "The most important thing to remember about this job is this," he warned sincerely, looking around at every single one of them as he stopped walking backwards, causing them all to pause behind him. "Stay emotionally detached. Don't get too involved in your PR's crisis," he advised. He couldn't stress that enough. He knew what that felt like. "What's PR?" he asked the group.

Almost immediately, Tommy responded. "Person reporting," he answered.

David nodded. "Right," he smiled. He knew most of them wouldn't last. But he was damn proud of these kids for trying. All they wanted to do was help. "And never ever make promises," he added. "Because you can't keep them..." It was true. They never could. But it was so damn hard to stick to these rules. "Okay? Now follow me to the call floor." He waved his hand at them as he began his trek down into the big room.

"If you're wondering why security's so

tight, we're the ears and eyes of the city," he explained, trusting they could all hear him. "We're the link between every human crisis and every first responder. That's the Fire and Police Department." They should know that but they didn't, he'd advise them to leave now. "If the Hive goes down, this whole city goes dark-" He cut himself off at the wave of a hand in the back of the group. A young woman with blue hair and yellow glasses. "Question here," he called, pointing to her and allowing her to speak.

"Why do they call it 'The Hive'?" she asked curiously.

At that, David smiled. "Listen," he whispered, shushing them all. "Hear all those

little worker bees?"

Truly, it did sound like a hive. Buzz after buzz. It was hard to get on without the noise. He'd gotten too used to it.

Continuing on, David kept on going down those stairs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he caught sight of his old desk.

Most of these kids would barely last a day.

"You can't tell me you haven't seen the way Oscar looks at'cha in gym. The guy wants to bang you," Albert informed, obviously.

All Race could do was roll his eyes and groan. "Don't even get me started. He's one of the creepiest guys I've ever met in my life, n' who says I gotta go on a double date with you an' Veronica?" He really did despise Oscar. Sure. He was built. But _God_ , he was an asshole.

"Lemme set you up!" Albert whined, sticking out his bottom lip and blinking his puppy dog eyes up at Race. He had no idea how they'd entered this conversation. He really did love Albert, but the guy just wanted to have sex all the time. And Race could never talk him out of it.

"Why? So that I can have this?" he asked, pulling Albert's phone out of his pockets and holding it in front of him, almost daring the other boy to do something about it.

Albert just glared at him, like he was expecting some kind of challenge. "Fine. Take it. I don't need it. I'll be fine."

Race scoffed. His friend would cave in a matter of minutes. But he pocketed the device anyways, shoving it into his unoccupied back pocket.

"But you have to let me set you up!"

"No! I hate it when ya try ta set me up, n' you know that I can't go anyways!" he insisted, reminding himself of something. He gasped as he quickly checked his phone. "Aw crap! I'm supposed ta pick Charlie up from his friend's house on my way home," he rushed out, beginning to make his way back in the direction they'd come and tossing his empty smoothie cup in the garbage as he did so.

Albert groaned. "Fine, but just so ya know, I ain't done yet, so tomorrow, you can buy me that hat we saw," he forced out, turning to follow his friend.

It was twenty minutes later when Race had just left Albert at his father's car so he could take the shortcut through the parking garage to get to the bus stop. And his phone rang. "Ya know, you could just text me like every otha' human being on the planet?" he stated, knowing full well who was on the other end of that call.

A laugh met his ear. And Race couldn't help but smile as he continued walking. "Just wanted ta make sure ya didn't forget about your baby brotha'," Jack informed. He was probably on a break or something. He was patrolling today. With Katherine.

"I'm on my way ta get him right now. I ain't that irresponsible, geez," he teased. He knew Jack loved him. He knew Jack trusted him. It was other people Jack didn't trust. And he had good reason for it.

"Okay... I'll see you later okay? Do your homework, don't keep the neighbors up too long with the piano _or_ the guitar an' make sure you n' Crutchie eat, yeah?"

Race nodded. "Yeah..." he sighed. He knew if he didn't, their neighbor would be over to make sure he ate something. It wouldn't be the first time it happened.

"Good boy. I love you."

"Love you too, Papa-bear," Race teased. And that was the end of the call.

Maybe it was his own fault. He hadn't been paying attention. But when he looked up from his phone, he was met with a very real, terrifying situation. He was about to get hit with a car. And there was no more time to move.

The scream of the car was enough to let Race know that he wasn't going to die as he stumbled backwards. At least, not at that particular moment. It had been moving fast and carelessly and the tires cried out as the thing came to an abrupt halt.

The boy's heart was racing as he tried to remember how to breathe. His hands began shaking as his anxiety caught up to him. His phone was on the ground now, as it had fallen from his hands the second he'd heard the screech of those tires. But he couldn't freak out. Not in public, at least. "Jesus, man!" he cried out, when the guy got out of the car, looking a bit shocked at himself. "Don't you watch where you're going?" His voice cracked ever so slightly. He inwardly growled at himself. He didn't have his meds and Jack was at work till late tonight. He had to calm down.

The stranger put a hand on his chest, looking a bit panicked himself. "I am so sorry! I didn't see you there!" he tried to apologize, getting closer to Race, though the boy immediately backed up. He wasn't too keen on strangers. Jack has made sure to keep it that way with all the stories he'd told him.

"Yeah, whatever..." Race muttered, mostly to himself. He'd probably never see this guy again in his life. It was best to just leave it alone and move on. So he reached down for his phone that was still lying on the ground at his feet. "Fantastic..." he muttered bitterly when he saw the cracked screen, shattered actually. Jack was going to kill him. "Dammit-"

He tried to stand back up. Just to walk away. It would be better that way. But before he could do anything, an arm wrapped tightly around his waist. His phone fell from his hands yet again as panic spiked in him. Just as he got it in his mind to scream, a kind of sweet smelling cloth was clamped down over his mouth. A mall parking garage full of cars and not a single person to take notice to what was happening.

The child's hands flew up to his mouth as he desperately tried to pull it away. He tried to remember everything Jack had ever told him, everything he'd ever been taught when a situation like this took place. He couldn't. Nothing was coming. Everything was starting to get blurry. His knees were beginning to buckle. But he had to stay awake. He had to. "Shhhhhh..." the stranger hushed, right beside his ear. The boy shivered. But there was nothing he could do.

He let the terror take him over as the entire world turned to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you bad things were going to happen.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, lovelies!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday everybody! 
> 
> I hope you’re in the mood for more of this disaster. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

“This here is Finch, a nickname, of course, but pay no mind to that,” David joked as Finch spun around in his chair to smile at them and give them a small wave. “He's a probie. He was exactly where you guys are six months ago,” the former operator explained. “How you liking the job, Finch?” he asked, more for the trainees benefit. He knew this kid loved the job.

“It's definitely the hardest job I've ever had,” the boy stated immediately, shrugging a bit. Not really knowing what else to say.

But someone in the middle of the group had a question. “What's the hardest part?” they asked curiously. David leaned back on Finch’s desk as the kid bit his lip and thought hard about how to answer.

Finally, he nodded as he found the perfect one. “I guess the not knowing...” His voice was almost sad. David couldn’t help but feel his heart tighten. “A lot of times you don't know how it ends,” he continued on. “When units get to a scene, you sign off. And they take over but you don't know.” They group stayed quiet. Like they were waiting for more. So Finch began to ramble. “I mean, did they make an arrest? Shoot the bad guy? Did the PR live? Did she die-“

David stood up quick. Yes he knew there were those who wouldn’t be back tomorrow. But he still wanted to give them all a chance. “You'll get used to it,” he stated quickly, motioning for Finch to take another call.

The kid did. “911, where's your emergency?”

Now they were getting somewhere. David was going to show them how it all worked. “Right here's where the PR's phone number comes up,” he informed, pointing to one of the three computer screens on the desk. “And the cell's GPS chip allows us to get an exact lat-long coordinate right here on this map.” He was hardly listening to Finch’s call. It seemed standard enough. “Then over here, he can dispatch the police to the scene at any time,” he finished, turning back to the group and smiling at them. “Okay? Any questions?”

“Yeah...” Oh boy, it was Tommy again. David nodded at him. “What about you, Mr. Jacobs?”

David only shrugged. “What about me?”

“How come you're not out here

on the floor?”

Without skipping a beat, without thinking back to that horrid call that had put a stop to him being out on that floor with all of the other soldiers in that room, David responded. “Because I'm the teacher.” And he didn’t need to say anything else. “Now, why don't you guys follow me this way? I'm gonna get you set up for some calls,” he stated, motioning over to the training desks on the corner.

Maybe Tommy would be okay.

Panic was something Race thought he’d felt before. He was known to have panic attacks, especially when he thought he was going to get hit. His mother’s ex-husband had made clear sure of that. This poor kid never had a chance of growing up normal. None of them did.

But this threw all of that out the window.

As the boy came to, he couldn’t recall what had happened last. He tried to reach out, maybe for Jack, maybe to ask his brother lightly to help bring his racing heart down. Maybe it had been another nightmare. There was never any danger anymore. There hadn’t been for years. Not since Jack won. But something felt off. Groaning, the boy pried his eyes open, expecting to wake up in his bedroom that he was supposed to clean last night. Instead, all that greeted him was darkness.

Nerves seemed to take over his entire body as he looked around for a moment. His arms felt heavy and his legs weren’t much better. As his vision began to clear, he thought maybe he’d realize it was just too early in the morning.

He was so wrong.

“No... no... no no no no no...” he mumbled out slowly, each syllable becoming more dire and panicked. Loud music met his ears as he realized the ceiling was much too close to his face for it to be the ceiling of an actual room. He couldn’t hardly sit up. His head whipped around in every direction, trying to understand what was happening. He couldn’t breathe properly. He was in a box of some kind. “No no no no...”

A loud honk gave the situation away. Race jumped, only hitting his head on the top of the small compartment he was trapped in. He was in a trunk. That was when it came back to him.

Panicking wouldn’t help him. He knew that. It didn’t make it stop. He tried to imagine Jack’s voice, his hands running through his hair. It wasn’t working. Screaming was out of the question. No one would hear him over the music blasted inside the car. Not that he thought he could scream anyways. He couldn’t breathe.

His hands somehow found the solid ceiling above him. Maybe if he hit it hard enough it would break. He was suffocating. He wasn’t breathing. This hadn’t happened in a long time. Jack wasn’t here to calm him down. No one was. Race was alone in the dark and there was nothing here that could save him.

Then something vibrated in his back pocket. _Albert..._ Albert’s phone! He had a phone. He could barely move. But he had to. He reached a shaky hand around to his pocket, his body convulsing as he tried to take in short breaths. It was only now that he realized there were tears rushing down his face. He didn’t care. But there is one thing he remembered Jack telling him.

Don’t call Jack, call 911. Always call 911.

So, Race did what he knew he had to as he knew he was hyperventilating. He hung up the phone, trying to distract himself by thinking about how ridiculous it was that Albert had a phone specifically devoted to his girlfriend. It wasn’t working. But he pushed forward anyway, typing in the three numbers that might be the only thing that could get him out of this.

“Please, please, please, please...”

It had almost been a success. These kids were hopeful. David was now sure all of them might come back the next day. “So I think you guys had a good first day. Things are gonna get a little bit harder, though.”

They were passing just by Finch’s desk. The kid was taking another call.

“911, what’s your emergency?” It was supposed to be this way. Finch sounded bored, emotionless. It was something he’d had to work on. They couldn’t get attached. That was against the rules. And it was hard as hell. David listened in a little. Finch had been a working progress. The kid had been to The Quiet Room a lot when he’d first started. But he’d come a long way.

Though, nothing could’ve truly prepared him for this. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, okay! Slow down!” Immediately, David’s attention was off his students. He completely zeroed in on his former trainee. “Hey, it’s okay! Slow down! I can’t understand you!” David gave him a stern look. If the operator sounded panicked, the person on the other end of the line surely wouldn’t calm down much. Finch nodded, taking a deep breath and continuing. “Okay... where are you?”

The man took a few steps closer to the station, not wanting to truly step in, but he didn’t want to leave Finch like this. Finch had the capability to handle this, it was just a matter of him staying calm. “Okay, what um, what mall are you at? Y-you said he hit you, where did he hit you?” Curiosity got the better of David. He couldn’t help but reach for an earpiece, not fully expecting to hear a young panicked voice on the other side.

“N-no! No, he almost hit me!” the person sobbed out, clearly having a difficult time breathing. More than likely, this was a standard panic attack. David used to get plenty of calls like that. He’d have to talk them down, coax them into breathing properly. No big deal.

Finch nodded, hesitation radiating off of him all to easily as he stared at his computer, not quite knowing what to do next. “Oh-Okay... an’ where’s the vehicle now?”

After a frustrated groan, the person let out even more sobs. “I-I don’t _know_ where the vehicle is! I’m in the trunk! I-I’m like _in_ the _trunk_!” Nothing could’ve prepared the young man for that.

David’s heart stopped for a second. Kidnapping. What made it worse was that, by the sounds of the voice, it was an actual child. If he had to guess, a teenager. In a moment of fear, his eyes rushed around, searching for his supervisor. Darcy was already watching them. That was never a good thing. So David looked back down, only for Finch to look up at him with wide eyes as he pointed at one of the computers in front of him. “David, there’s no location,” he whispered out, covering the mic so the kid couldn’t hear him. There were panicked screams still coming in through the head piece.

“It’s a disposable phone. There’s no chip,” he informed, trying to speak as calmly as he could. “Ask him his name.” Not that it was truly working. It would never get easier to accept that people went after children. The kid was hyperventilating.

Again, Finch nodded. “What is your name? What’s your name?” he asked, his voice rushed as he tried to figure out what to do next.

“T-Tyler! M’name’s Tyler!” the boy cried out, still sounded much too panicked. “Please help me! Pl-please ge’me outta here!”

“Tyler...” Finch repeated, typing the name into the computer, making sure to keep a note of it just as he should’ve. David nodded in approval before the younger man went back to the boy, trying to calm him down even just a little bit. “Okay, Tyler, you have to calm down...”

Only Tyler was anything but calm. His head was spinning. He was going to pass out. It wouldn’t be the first time. He knew how dangerous it was. He needed to breath. He just couldn’t. “I’m in a trunk! My phone’s gone! I’m using my friend’s phone! Why can’t you just trace it?!” he sobbed out. He didn’t understand. It wasn’t supposed to be difficult. They were supposed to stop the bad guys. They were supposed to call Jack so that Jack could come and save him. And he knew banging on the top of the small space would do him no good. That didn’t stop him from doing it anyways.

Finch took a deep breath to steady himself. This boy was going to suffocate himself if he wasn’t careful. “Tyler... we’re... you’re on a disposable phone... it’s gonna take us a little while to find you-“ Someone’s hand slammed down on the mute button beside him and Finch jumped. He looked up to see his trainer shaking his head with wide eyes. He wasn’t supposed to say that to a panicked PR. He knew that. This was so hard.

“Wh-What?” the child croaked out, suddenly going quiet as the reality of the situation dawned on him. He might not get out of this alive. “You... you can’t find me?” He got no reply. No one knew what to say to him. “No... no no no no no, you have ta find me! Please! You have ta get me outta here!” he cried, his sobs coming in fuller and more panicked than ever. “I don’ wanna die!”

Looking around, David spotted Darcy, only a few feet away, wondering what on earth was going on in front of a batch of new employees who more than likely couldn’t handle things like this on the first day. David did his best not to look at the other man, choosing instead to try and help Finch who looked like he was about to cry. “No, no, Tyler... we will, we’re gonna find you-“

“Please! Please just get me outta here!” Race couldn’t think. All he could do was scream. He wanted his brother. He needed someone to calm him down. He was going to die. “Please! I don’t wanna die! No one comes back from things like this! Please help me!” He felt sick. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“David...” Finch called, sounding helpless and panicked. “David, he’s freaking out.” Of course he was. He was in the back of a car. He didn’t know the driver and he didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t know if he was gonna make it out alive. But still David hesitated. “What do I do? He won’t calm down... I... I don’t know what to do...” It was a heartbreaking response. This was a difficult case. They couldn’t track the kid, they had no idea who had him and the boy was going to pass out before they had a chance to calm him down. So David shook his head, doing his best to shove the fear to the back of his mind before he held out his hand for the headset and motioned for his coworker to move. Finch did so immediately, standing by, biting down on his thumb nail as he watched his former trainer get used to the job all over again.

The boy was still rambling, his voice quick and flimsy and breathless as sobs rang out over the phone. “You have to find me! I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die...” He was running out of air quick in his state, desperately trying to get them to do something they couldn’t do. David took a deep breath and calmed himself before he started speaking.

“Hey... hey, Tyler? Hi, my name’s David... I‘m gonna help you, alright?” He knew it was always a bad idea to switch a voice on such a traumatized PR. But there really wasn’t much else he could do.

“What? I... no...” The child could hardly form a sentence. “No, I w’s talkin’ to someone else... can you just put me back on with him?” All Tyler wanted was a familiar voice. He just wanted something to calm him down. He put a hand over his eyes, trying in vain to forget that he was in a dark, tiny prison. He pressed down on his eyelids hard, seeing colorful spots dance around in the darkness. It hurt. He didn’t care.

Running a hand through his hair, David nodded. “I know, buddy... I know, but I’m gonna help you now, okay?” he coaxed as gently as possible.

Sniffling, the child tried to adjust himself, only letting out a watery groan when the tight space was made clear to him all over again. “Please help me... please... I don’t wanna die...”

David’s hands shook. It was all too familiar. He still heard that poor boy’s voice in his nightmares. “T-Tyler, we are... you are not gonna die...” The desperation began to take David over. He thought he could do this. He couldn’t. Not after...

Looking up, he found Darcy, looking at him almost concerned. But when Davey motioned for him to take over, more than likely looking more helpless than he’d ever been in his life, the older man just shook his head. “Breathe...” he whispered. “You got it...” David felt far away. He wanted to run. This boy’s life was in his hands. And last time that had happened, he’d lost it. But Darcy nodded, urging him to do something. The boy was sobbing, hysterical and terrified. So David turned back to the screens in front of him. He could do this. He had to do this. A child’s life was on the line.

“Okay... okay, okay...” he muttered, letting his ears focus in on the pleas coming through the ear piece. “Tyler?”

A sniffle was heard as the boy must’ve realized he had to quiet down if they were going to help him. “What?” came the watery reply. A terrified, agonized, desperate question.

“We are gonna find you... alright buddy?” David coaxed, hearing the sobs slow down, even if it was just a little bit. He pushed everything else to the back of his mind. This was the most important thing in the world right now. Nothing else mattered.

Though, his heart sank into his stomach when the boy mustered up the courage to ask another question. “You promise?” he breathed, clearly calming just a little at the mere idea of being found. “Do you promise you’re gonna find me?”

The new trainees were still standing behind him, watching David hesitate and close his eyes in despair. He was about to break one of the rules. Something he himself had been told and had enforced never to do. “I... I can promise you this, Tyler... we have the _best_ and the bravest team of people in New York working to find you. We are going to find you.” Never make a promise that won’t be kept. “But in order for us to find you, we need your help. _I_ need your help,” he corrected, his ears filled with the child’s panicked gasps of air and his high pitched, terror filled voice. “Can you do that for me, pal?”

Tyler felt his heart clench. The only person who ever called him _“pal”_ was his big brother, along with a whole bunch of other stupid pet names that he’d literally give a kidney to hear him say right now. He wanted his brother more than anyone else in the world. But for now, he supposed David would do. “Okay...” he forced out. “Okay...” He had to breathe. It was hard as hell, but he had to breathe.

“Okay, good boy, Tyler. It’s gonna be alright,” David praised lightly, allowing himself a small, sad smile as the boy began to calm down a bit. “Okay, the first thing I need you ta do is look around that trunk and see if you can find a release lever, okay? Usually they glow in the dark,” he informed, still gentle. As calming as he could be. He couldn’t help but wonder if it would be easier if it wasn’t a child.

Vaguely, David could hear Darcy barking out quiet orders, trying his best not to be heard by the child locked in a trunk headed to God knows where, not willing to frighten him any further. All he caught was, “‘em fax us the EC forms so we can start the trace,” and then a much more prominent, “Get these kids out of here!” Thank the Lord for Darcy. David hadn’t thought most of those kids would last their first month. Now he doubted any of them would even show up by the end of the week.

Doing as he was told, Tyler looked around, not even realizing he was holding his breath. He felt around for anything that would make the thing open. He just wanted out. “N-no... it doesn’t have one of those... I’m sorry...” he told the man on the other end of the line, the panic rushing back through his body.

The operator just nodded to himself. “Okay, that’s okay, Tyler,” he soothed, hiding his frustration a bit. Whoever this kidnapper was was smart. There had to be some kind of trail here. Something he could do. He read over some notes that Finch had already taken, not stopping to wonder if the younger man was still behind him or not. “What mall were you at when you were abducted?”

Grounding himself was an impossible task. The hand that had been blinding him before now reached up to his hair, fisting itself in his own blond curls as he tried to keep himself from screaming. “Man-Manhattan... Manhattan Mall...” he said, his voice trembling just as his limbs were. “Please get me outta here...”

“Okay, kid, you have to calm down for me... take a really deep breath,” David instructed, somehow maintain a cool and collected, casual sounding voice. “What’s you last name, Tyler?”

It took Tyler much too long to be able to squeak out his own last name. He wanted his brother so bad. “Kelly...” he choked out. “It’s Kelly... please... j’st... my brotha’s ‘re gonna be freaking out!” He was supposed to pick up Charlie from Romeo’s house on his walk back home that day. Both of his brothers were going to be confused and angry and _scared_.

David’s eyes widened in realization at that name that hit him like a ton of bricks. “Kelly, like Jack Kelly?” he asked, praying it wasn’t true. Praying this was any other boy than the one he knew him to be. But then the response came.

“M-mhm... my-my big brotha’...” Race whimpered out, stress eating him alive, though he almost sounded excited at the name. His head was pounding with panic. His knees hurt from being bent too long. He couldn’t move. “Please get him... I want my brotha’... I want Jack...”

“Okay... okay... it’s okay, Tyler. I have all your information right here...” the young man soothed, hushing the boy as he tried so hard not to lose focus. This was one of Jack’s beloved baby brothers. This was his friend’s world he had in his hands right now. Why were the stakes only getting so much higher? “I... I know your brother, Tyler... he calls me Mouth. Does he have a name for you too?”

He couldn’t help but stare at the picture on the screen. Tyler James Kelly. Formally Anthony Isaac Higgins. Fifteen years old. Curly blond hair and the bluest eyes David had ever seen in his life. The only thing that reminded the operator of his friend was that smirk that was always present on his face, sitting right there on the boy who’d been raised by him. But there was someone else the child reminded him all to much of.

“R-Racer... Race...” the boy replied. His energy was already beginning to fade. That chemical that had dragged him under before hadn’t disappeared. He blinked hard, trying to find something to focus on. All he had really, was a stranger’s voice. “I like ta run...” he finished, trying to remember his brother teasing him and calling him that nickname that had followed him since he was five years old.

David laughed a little at that, trying to make the conversation as normal as possible. It always helped calm people down. “Well, I like to talk.” Just not right now. Not when the only thing between this boy and his fate was him. Before that other phone call, the pressure hadn’t seemed so heavy. Now it was like the world rested on his shoulders. “You wanna know somethin’ I know about your brother, Racer?”

“What?” Race asked, feeling his chest lighten just a little bit at the familiar name.

“He’s a fighter. I know he taught you to be a fighter too...” David urged. He’d known Jack for years. They hadn’t really been close until out of college. But that man was strong as hell, physically, mentally, emotionally. He had to be after all the shit life had thrown at him. Parents divorcing, obvious abuse, two half brothers from his mother’s affairs being thrown into his lap when he was barely thirteen. Jack’s life had been anything but private. And he didn’t care. He came through it stronger than ever. David could only pray Tyler had half that drive in him. “You gotta fight for him, Tyler. Fight to get back to him... can you do that?”

“Yes!” Race cried out, feeling his entire being screaming to just get back to Jack. They fought so hard to be together. He just wanted to get out. He wanted Jack. “Yes! I want Jack!”

“Okay, okay, good boy, Tyler,” David sighed out, bringing up the notes on his computer. He could do this. This wasn’t going to be so bad. Maybe it would all be okay.

Maybe he could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn’t, what you’d change or what you’d improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, friends!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends! I'm so sorry! I totally forgot to post yesterday! I completely forgot what day it was. Life is a little crazy right now.
> 
> Alright! Please enjoy!

David blinked hard, trying to focus more than he'd ever focused on anything in his entire life. "The man who grabbed you, what did he look like? Can you describe him for me?" he asked the boy on the other end of the line.

Sheer terror rushed through Race's heart as he thought about the man again; the man sitting in the front seat, taking him away from everything he'd ever known into a mysterious future that he didn't want to predict. He didn't want to die.

At the boy's hesitation, David continued on. He needed this information. "C'mon, Race. You can do it. Was he White, Black, Asian, Hispanic-"

"White! He w's White..." Race cut in, remembering at least that much. "He... he was dressed normal... I think," he continued, his face soaked through with tears he realized, as he ran his hand down over his cheeks.

Okay, at least they were getting somewhere. "Okay, normal. What does that mean kiddo? Was he wearing a sweatshirt? Jeans?"

"Sunglasses!" he cried as he remembered. Dark sunglasses. Race couldn't really see his face. He didn't know who it was. "He was wearing sunglasses..."

It was more than nothing. For the state the kid was in, it was a miracle David was getting this far. He was grateful for any piece of information he got. "Good! That's good, Tyler! Can you guess his age for me?" he asked, typing rapidly on his keyboard. "Twenties? Thirties? Forties?"

The boy took in a shaky breath. "Th-thirties... like mid... mid-thirties!" he decided, clutching the phone so tightly in his hand. He didn't want to look around him. He was afraid of what he might find. He knew there were things sitting beside him, though. But he was not about to let his curiosity win out right now.

Information was coming. He could do this. They could find him. "Okay, and the car, what color was the car?"

This was so hard. Race still couldn't really think. He still couldn't really breathe. "Uhm... grey... or s-silver... silver. It's silver..." The sobs were coming back. He was getting farther and farther away from home. Away from his brothers. He didn't even know how long it had been since he'd been taken.

"Two doors or four doors?"

"F-four, I think..." Race stuttered out. His voice going watery all over again. He felt weaker than he'd ever felt in his life. "Please get Jack... just... please?"

"We are gonna get you back ta Jack, buddy. We will. But you have to stay calm. Take a breath as deep as you can for me, okay?" David urged again, typing up all the information. Getting ready to put out an amber alert. It was something. "What time was it when you were at the mall?"

Race sucked in a breath. He couldn't remember. The last time he checked his phone was when Jack had called him. "I dunno..." he whimpered. "It was after four... maybe four fifteen?"

The operator nodded. He could work with this. "You're doing great, buddy! Hang in there. Keep breathing, for me. It's gonna be quiet for a second, alright? Just keep breathing..." he encouraged, not even waiting for a response before hitting the mute button and switching the headset from the phone to the radio.

"All available units, we have a kidnap in progress," he began urgently, simultaneously looking at his computer and scrolling through so many numbers before he came to the one he needed for this crime. 207. Kidnap. "Male abducted at Manhattan Mall approximately 25 minutes ago. White male 30s, in a four-door silver, unknown make, model. PR's in the trunk on a disposable phone." His voice was almost robotic as he recited the information that he assumed would forever be burned into his brain. "Any available units code three!" Then it was over. He hadn't expected his heart to stop at the immediate response he got.

"Eight-Adam-Sixteen en route, code three," came a smooth, familiar, New York influenced voice.

"Shit," David muttered, not having the heart to give the PR's name as the voice continued on.

"It's good ta hear your voice again, Davey."

 _Jack_.

He didn't have time to be angry at the world for making all of this happen. Fate was a bitch. But that wasn't what was important right now. What was important was the boy on the other end of the call, panicking all the more as he cried out for David to just please answer him. "Hey, hey, I'm here, kiddo... I'm gettin' the police. They're gonna find you, but you have to stay calm..." It was so much to ask and they both knew it. "Now, can you tell me if you're on a surface street or a freeway?"

Tyler let out another sob at another question. He didn't know. How could he? He was in the midst of a full fledged panic attack. But just as he might've answered that question, or tried to, the device in his hand began vibrating again. "No, no..." he whispered frantically as the thing began making so much more noise. Phones weren't supposed to make that much noise if he was already on the phone. "Shhh!" he pleaded with the thing.

"Tyler, what's happening?" David asked, his fear betraying him for a moment and shining through in his words.

The child just let out another sob as another loud song sounded through his small prison. "It's an-nother call! _God, it's Ronnie! He's gonna hear it ringing!" Race all but screamed._

As if David hadn't already been scared enough for this child. _"I think he heard the phone ring!"_ The man was about to throw up. "No no no no no! Tyler you do not answer that!" he demanded frantically, wishing beyond anything that he could somehow reach through that phone and put a comforting hand on the kid's shoulder, do anything to calm him down. "You do not break contact with me. I cannot lose you. Stay on the line, okay?" he pleaded, not ready to tell an old friend that he'd lost one of his baby brothers. Not willing to break that man all over again. "Stay on the line and breathe... it's okay..."

Barely listening, Race gripped his own hair again, taking in sharp, shallow breaths. "This can't be happening..." he breathed out through gasps of air. His throat was tight. It hurt to breathe.

"Tyler, I need you to focus. Are those tires going fast or slow?" Focus. Focusing was hard even when the boy could think straight. But he had to try. Though, he felt even more helpless when he couldn't.

"I-I don't... I don't know, I'm sorry!" Race cried out, hitting the side of the trunk in frustration. It didn't help. Not even a little.

This was so goddamn hard. Why had he chosen this job? Why was this his responsibility? "Does it sound like a freeway, kiddo?"

The boy groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath for a moment as he listened intently to everything around him. The music was familiar. Old music. Stuff that Medda liked to listen to — his neighbor. Fifties or sixties music. He couldn't hear much other than that. Just the sound of wind really. But he supposed they hadn't stopped in a while. Freeways didn't have stoplights. "I-it might be a freeway..." he concluded, taking in a deep, shaken gasp of air.

"Good boy! You're doing so good, Tyler! Stay on the line, okay?" Again, David tapped mute before the child could even respond. "All available units! PR believes they're on freeway. Direction unknown." Immediately he was back on with Tyler. The boy was still sobbing. If he didn't calm down, he really would pass out. "Okay, buddy, can you tell me if the trunk smells like a new car or an old one?" he asked, almost hopefully.

Race sniffled. "Uhm..." There was no hope of his voice sounding calm anymore. It shook with every syllable, ringing out the fear inside him. "It... older, I think..."

David nodded, an idea popping into his head. "Okay, in older cars there should be access to the taillights. Look for the red glow, buddy." His heart was beating so rapidly in his chest. He'd rather be in this child's place than be trying to talk him through this.

For a moment, David chanced a look around him. He regretted it the moment he dared to do it. If they weren't on a phone call, they were watching him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever was to happen to happen. What was worse was that these people knew more than anyone that the ending they all desperately wished to have wouldn't be revealed to them until it was revealed to the rest of the world.

With one more glance at his supervisor who had every right to be watching him like a hawk, worry in his eyes, David turned back to his computer. "Do you see it, kid?"

"Yeah... yeah I see it..." came the shaken, watery response.

A small smile played at the operators lips. He hated to ask the kid to do this, but this could work. He could get the kid out of there. "Alright! You're doin' great, Racer! Now, I need you to knock that taillight out and make a hole. Can you do that for me?" he asked gently, knowing this boy was already terrified of drawing his captor's focus back on him.

A small gasp left Race's lips at the thought. "No... no! I can't! David... he'll hear me..." Words we're just stumbling out of his mouth now. Nothing in the world could've prepared him for this. He just wanted out. "I don't wanna die..."

"Race, we have ta try. You have to fight to get back to Jack, remember? You can do this..." he coaxed. Oh God, how was he supposed to tell Jack about this? There's no way he could know at this point. If he'd known, he wouldn't have sounded so happy to hear David over the radio.

The man on the phone was right. Race let out a breath. "Yeah... okay, okay... I can try..." he decided, switching the phone over to his left hand and desperately wiping at his face. More tears only fell to soak his cheeks all over again. He took a breath, as deep as he could, finally daring to take a glance around. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he caught sight of at least four cans of paint. Work equipment filled the back of the trunk. Nothing he thought would be too useful. So he turned back to the dim red glow that David instructed him to look for. With all the strength he had, he pounded his fist on it.

"The carrier got our request." David whipped around at his superior's voice, immediately muting himself, not wanting Tyler to hear anything he didn't need to. "We're just waiting for them to call back." It was supposed to be good news, meant for relief. If anything, it only made David all the more agitated.

He shook his head. "We can't wait, Darcy! This kid is barely breathing. We need to get him out of there!" he cried, sniffling a little and turning back to his station. This kid was strong, but he wouldn't last too long with the way he was panicking.

All Darcy could do was shrug helplessly. "You know how those prepaid's work. It could be within a five mile radius..." It wasn't ideal. But it was what they had. It was the best they could do for this child. "Just keep doing what you're doing..." he encouraged, nodding at the other man who let his face rest in his hands for a second. He had faith in David Jacobs. He was one of the best. He wouldn't have trusted anyone else with a case like this at the moment.

Going back to the boy was difficult. He hated how he could still hear the boy whimpering and whining and _begging_ the taillight to just give way. He clicked the button again, wanting to be heard by the kid who he wished he could calm down. "Tyler, how are you doing, kid?"

"I can't get it!" Tyler cried out, angry at himself. Angry at the world. He just wanted a break. He just wanted to see his brothers again.

David shook his head. "Try the other one, pal! Fast as you can, okay?"

A cry escaped the boy. He couldn't turn around in that small trunk. He could barely move at all. He turned to start hitting things again. He knew it wouldn't help. He knew Jack had broken his hand trying to take his anger out on a wall. But it seemed like all he could think to do. Though, the second he turned, he felt his back lay over something that had slid closer to him as he tried to knock the light out of its place. He grabbed it immediately. It was a paint roller. Metal.

In a last desperate attempt to follow directions, something that had never truly been easy for him, the boy took the end of the tool and with all his might shoved it at the red glowing light by his head. He almost screamed when the thing began to give way.

"I got it! I got it!" David smiled in spite of the entire situation at that relieved sob he received from a boy that had so much life ahead of him.

"You got it!" he laughed out nervously, running another hand through his hair. "You got it, Tyler! Now look out that hole and tell me what you see," he instructed. This could work. They could find him. Maybe it could just be that simple.

The fresh air felt good, despite the noise that filled up the trunk. He felt like it was a little easier to breathe now. "It's a freeway!" he informed a little more frantically. Freeway meant faster. Freeway meant he could be anywhere by now. They weren't even stuck in Manhattan traffic. They were moving quick. "I... I don't know where we are! None of it looks familiar!" he sobbed. It was just a highway. There were plenty of other cars behind him, but he'd never seen any of the landscapes before.

"Okay! Okay! It's okay! Here's what I need ya to do," David soothed quickly. He hated to ask the boy to do this. It was dangerous. He couldn't see the car. He didn't know how big that hole would be. He didn't have too much to go on. But it was worth a shot. "I need you to slip your arm through that hole, and wave it, wave it, wave it, alright?"

A groan sounded throughout the small space Race was trapped in. "I-I can't... I'll break my arm..." He couldn't break his arm. Not now. Things were supposed to be going right for him right now.

David sighed. "You won't, Tyler... if someone sees you wavin' your hand like that, we'll be able to find you," he explained. A broken arm would heal. A lost life could not be replaced. He scrolled over the boy's file slowly as he continued to try and persuade him. That's when it clicked. But it wasn't something he saw. It was a conversation with Jack that made him remember. Tyler was a piano and guitar player. A very talented kid by the sounds of it. But it didn't matter at the moment. David's job was keeping him alive. "I'm trying to get you back to Jack, kiddo. You have to fight for me, here... can you do that?"

 _Jack_. Race squeezed his eyes shut again, imagining his big brother was there, arms around him immediately after the trunk was opened. He wanted Jack. He wanted his big brother. "Okay... okay... I'm wavin'... I'm wavin'..." he said as he carefully reached through the hole. It was just big enough for his arm. And he waved like his life depended on it.

Because it did.

"Good boy! Yes, Tyler!" David praised before hitting the mute harder than he needed to. "I've got a PR waving his arm out the back of a trunk! Let's see if we get a call!" he announced, before immediately turning back and clicking that button again, knowing the boy was terrified of being alone in this situation. "Keep breathing, Racer. You can do this..."

The boy kept waving, praying for the first time in his small life. He didn't even know how this worked. He was basically just begging the universe to let him survive this situation. It wasn't common. He knew that. His brother was a cop after all.

The hive was tense and David could feel it. It was terrifying how everyone was watching him every second they got. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. All he could keep doing was gently speaking to the child being taken away from everything he knew.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Yeah, there's someone stuck in the trunk of the car in front of me. A silver Camry. I think it might be a child..."

Specs shot up from his seat, his hand in the air. "Yo! I got him!"

Relief flooded through David's veins. "We're so close, Racer. Hang in there. Jack's coming..."

Tears spilled down Race's cheeks all over again at his brother's name. "I'm wavin... I'm wavin'..."

With a rush of determination that Spec's felt run through every inch of his being, he turned back to his own monitors. "Ma'am, what road are you on?" he asked, too serious for her not to answer immediately.

"The seventy eight towards Jersey..." she informed, sounding a bit hesitant.

Specs nodded, looking towards his coworker who only stared back at him with so much hope in his eyes. "Can you get the license plate number for me?"

The woman stared straight ahead of her, wondering what on earth was going on, unable to even dwell on the fact that her own kids were strapped in behind her, too young to even realize the danger of the situation. They were asking her questions. She didn't respond. She just had ears for the operator on the other end of the line. "7CFI06X..." she read off, her heart breaking at the thought of a child being trapped like that.

"Thank you!" Specs cried, typing the number into the system, urging the thing to work as fast as it could possibly go. He barely had time to notice Darcy behind him as the picture of their suspected kidnapper loaded painfully slow on the screen, only earning a disappointed growl when the thing became clear.

Unless their perp was an sixty seven year old woman with white hair and a worn smile, they were screwed.

"Stolen vehicle?" Darcy questioned, leaning in a bit closer to take a hard look at the screen. If it was stolen, they might still be able to track it somehow.

Only Specs shook his head. "This license plate belongs to a white Ford Explorer. He switched the damn plates!" This guy was smart. He was playing them.

This poor kid...

David watched the scene with wide eyes, not knowing what to say anymore in response to the frantic whispers a terrified child was rushing out in attempts to ground himself. All he could offer him was the occasional hush and a soft, "breathe, kiddo..." It wasn't enough. He knew it wasn't enough.

On the road, the woman could barely hear what was going on. Whoever she was speaking to had lost his rush of excitement and relief and was now sounding more deflated, though she didn't supposed he was even talking to her anymore. "Do you need a description?" she asked, changing lanes in hopes of pulling up beside the car in front of her. She didn't wait for a response. She just did it.

"No!" Specs cried out. "Ma'am! Do not approach the vehicle! That man is suspected for kidnapping!" Though he had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. The woman wasn't listening to him.

The deafening music playing around him was necessary. Not only that, it kept him focused for the time being. No use doing this if he was going to get caught in a car crash on his way to his escape. Adrenaline rushed through him. He felt more alive than he had in a year. It was almost too easy. Now he just had to make it.

His body was shaking with nerves and the adrenaline rush he felt. His heart was pounding in his chest. It felt like he was panicking, but he couldn't quite identify it as that. It was hot. He knew that much. But it would be fine. As long as no one heard the boy laying helplessly behind him.

Though, his confidence was crushed when he caught sight of a minivan pulling up beside him, a woman inside, leaning forward in her seat in order to get a better look at him. His lips immediately found a familiar scowl as he let instinct take over. He pushed the gas petal down to the floor, feeling the whole vehicle jerk backwards before he began passing every car around him, heading directly for the next exit he narrowly got off on.

"He's getting off!"

Specs slammed down on the desk in front of him, both hands stinging at the impact. "What exit?!" he demanded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know anything about how any of the streets in New York work. So let's just pretend that I know what I'm talking about. Thank you!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, friends!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again... I apologize. I completely forgot to update yesterday. And I’m so sorry! But I’m back!
> 
> Please enjoy!

Race screamed as his body was thrown forward. He pulled his arm in, crying out even more as he scraped his forearm against the sharp metal he’d been trying to keep it from. He was going faster. He couldn’t breathe. “David!” he cried. “David! Please, David!”

David took a few short breaths, so frustrated he couldn’t even begin to describe it. Once he got the information, he went for the radio. He hated that the boy was screaming out his name. He hated that he things might just get a whole lot worse. “All available units, Camry spotted exiting towards John F. Kennedy airport!”

“Dammit,” Jack muttered, glancing over at his partner for a moment who only looked at him with wide eyes. They were going the wrong way. “About face,” he joked, though there was no real humor behind the words. This was serious. But if they were headed to the airport, surly this guy, whoever he was, couldn’t get a child through it without getting someone’s attention. “Hold on, doll...” he winked.

“Jack Kelly, I swear to God...” the young woman threatened lightly, shaking her head as she gripped onto the car for dear life. Jack only laughed a little.

“C’mon, Ace... live a little!” Only Jack didn’t know how his high would soon wear off. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he found next.

Breathing was so goddamn hard. “David! Please! I don’ wanna die! I don’t wanna die!” Race wanted out. The world was moving so quickly behind him he couldn’t even try to blink the tears away to figure out where he was headed.

Hearts were only supposed to be allowed to break once in a lifetime. Today, David threw that theory clear out the window. “Tyler! Calm down, kiddo. What do you see?”

“Nothing!” Tyler yelled. “Nothing! It all looks the same!” It was clear they were going away from the city. Somehow they’d made it to some kind of backroad. Nothing looked familiar. All Race knew was the city.

Everything was going downhill. David couldn’t stop it. He gripped at his hair, glancing back to see Darcy checking back in on him again. With a panicked look on his face, the operator turned back to his computers. “Tyler... what else is in that trunk? Tell me what you see...”

There it was. The thing that Race has been dreading doing since he’d woken up. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to. “David...” he groaned, shaking his head.

“Focus, Racer... you can do this...” David said, his voice as soft as he could possibly get it. “Describe what you see...” he pleaded. Not only would Jack never forgive him if he didn’t do everything he could to get his kid out, David didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself. After all, Benjamin Neilson might still be alive if it weren’t for him...

It was still so dark. Race did not want to chance taking the phone away from his ear, even if the small device would offer some light. “Um... there’s... there’s paint...” So much of it. “N’ some brushes...” he whimpered. “A screwdriver...”

“Okay,” David pondered, grabbing a pen. He needed something to grip onto. Something besides his hair that would give him something to do. “What else?” He questioned, trying to think of anything they could do.

Sniffling, trying to hard to just be calm, to just pretend he wasn’t scared out of his mind, the boy continued on, feeling around a little bit until his hand felt a kind of dirty tarp. “Uhm...” He had been starting to breathe again. He had been calm. Not anymore. Not when he pulled back that tarp. “No... no no no no no no! God no! Please!” His throat would be raw soon. But he could hardly feel it over his own terror.

Nerves spiked in the operators bones again as he sat up a little straighter. “What, kiddo? What is it?”

“He’s gonna bury me! He’s gonna kill me n’ he’s gonna bury me! Please God no!” The child was fully screaming now. David winced. He could hear him banging on the roof above him, desperate to get out.

“Tyler, I really need you to calm down-“

“He has a shovel! He’s gonna kill me n’ bury me!” The situation was hopeless. They wouldn’t find him. He’d be left alone to live his last few moments being tormented by a stranger and no one would even ever find him. “I know what he’s gonna do! I don’t wanna die! I don’ wanna die!” he sobbed out. It hurt. His chest hurt. His eyes stung. His throat burned. His head was pounding just as his heart did.

This boy certainly was a challenge. He felt bad for making fun of his old friend whenever the other man would complain about being tired. If he remembered correctly, Race suffered from ADHD as well as panic and anxiety attacks. That was never a good mix. Not to mention the other brother. Charlie... the boy who could only use one leg.

It didn’t matter right now. He couldn’t dwell on it. He just needed this screaming child to calm down. “Hey... hey, Tyler? Kelly, what’s your favorite movie?” he asked. Anything to get the boy’s mind off of this. Absolutely anything. “Huh?” he prompted again after a moment of quiet passed.

Race sniffled, thoroughly confused. “What?” he croaked out, not understand in the least what the man was getting at.

“It’s okay...” David laughed, stressed tears in his eyes. “It’s okay, you can tell me. What is it?”

A sense of calm washed over the child for a split second as he pondered the question. He got lost in a quick memory of movie nights. Every Saturday night that they could, it was movie night with his makeshift family. His half brothers and his oldest brother’s girl. And when it was his turn to pick, it would more than likely be one of four movies. “Raiders of the Lost Ark...” Indiana Jones.

At that, David allowed himself a small, genuine smile. “No way! My little brother loves Indiana Jones!” he stated, trying like everything to get the kid to just connect with him. _Trust_ him. “Let’s make a deal, pal...” He really shouldn’t be doing this. It was against the rules. Promises were off the table. “This weekend, we’re gonna go to the movies. Your choice. I’ll buy you anything you want, okay? You and me...” He really shouldn’t be doing this.

The child swallowed hard, nodding a little bit. “O-Okay...” he agreed so softly David almost missed it.

“Okay... okay... here’s what I need you to do, Tyler,” he began, an idea popping into his head as he ran through the list of items he knew were in that trunk with that scared to death little boy. “I need you to open up one of those cans of paint and pour it out through that hole. Can you do that?”

A forced hum was the only response the boy could muster at that point. Pushing every hesitant thought to the back of his mind, Tyler did as he was told, taking that screwdriver and roughly forcing the lid off of the paint and dragging it over to the hole. “I-I got it... I’m doin’ it...” he informed. His whole body was beginning to ache, hating being stuck in the same position for too long. His legs screamed at him to move. He tried to ignore it.

“Any available units, kidnap in progress,” David stated again, for what felt like the millionth time. This boy should’ve been found by now. “Suspect is white male, 30s, in a four-door silver Camry. PR is in the trunk. PR is leaving a trail of white paint coming from the trunk. I repeat, look for white paint near John F. Kennedy Airport!” Then be switched back. Back to the boy who was still just trying to remember how to breathe.

“The paints almost gone, David...” Race whined, feeling the can getting lighter by the second.

Nodding, David could only offer a quiet, “open up another one, kiddo. It’s alright.” He did not feel bad about using a stranger’s paint. Not if the stranger had it in him to do this.

“Okay... just please don’t leave me alone...” the boy begged quietly, almost hesitant to admit that he was terrified of being alone in the back of a car with a man he did not know.

With a small shake of his head, David promised, “Of course not, Tyler. Never. I’m right here...” Nothing was going to tear him away from that phone. Not now.

That stupid kid was too bold for his own good. The driver still had no idea what the boy had done to get someone’s attention but that was about to end real quick. He turned up the volume on his stereo. He didn’t even care about what was playing as long as it was loud enough for that boy to know no one was listening to him. No one would find him.

Everything was fine. At least, until another car pulled up beside him at the stoplight that must’ve been broken. The driver looked over, rolling his eyes when the man began waving him down. He felt himself beginning to sweat. It would be fine as long as he played it off. He rolled down his window, putting on a forced grin as he waved.

“Hey, uh, you got some... paint coming out of your trunk...” the guy informed, hesitantly. The driver’s heart sunk as anger spread throughout his body. He looked back, like he was shocked. Like nothing should’ve been in his trunk. That kid was gonna get it. Time to teach him a lesson, he supposed.

“Oh no...” he sighed out, still pretending to be confused as hell. “Thank you so much!” The man looked at him skeptically, but nodded none the less in acceptance.

The second that light turned green, the driver was off like a shot.

Tyler gasped in panic when the car jerked forward again. The phone fell from his fingers as paint spilled every which way, mangling his hair and staining his favorite sweatshirt. But that wasn’t what worried the boy. “No... no no no no no, David?!” he cried as he picked the phone back out of the mess of white paint. “David?! Can you hear me?!” The cheap thing shouldn’t have lasted. All Race could hear was static.

“Tyler?!” The noise was choppy at best. He could he fragments of his PR’s frantic pleas for him to respond. “Tyler? What happened?!” This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t lose contact with this kid. “Tyler?!”

“David?! Please!” Race begged, trying to clear the paint off of the disposable, desperate to save his one ounce left of safety. “Please, please! David!”

By some miracle, the static began clearing up. David sighed in relief. “Tyler, I can hear you. What happened?”

Just as Race might’ve responded, he felt the car skid to a sudden and taunting halt. The whole world stopped as the boy held his breath, his eyes going wide as his body seemed to freeze. He’d never been this petrified in his entire life. But it couldn’t end like this. He needed to see Jack. Oh, what would Jack do?

“Kelly, c’mon, I need you ta talk ta me, buddy! What’s goin’ on?” Race shook his head and silently pushed the phone into his back pocket, not willing to speak. He couldn’t give himself away right now. He flinched as he felt the opening and slamming of the front door. His limbs began to tremble as fear completely took over. Footsteps and clanging keys made their way closer to him. Race grabbed for the screwdriver that rolled at his hip as the thing was about to be unlocked.

“No... no no no please!” he began screaming, even before the world turned white. “Please don’t do this!” In a split second he was blinded. He weakly shoved himself up, shoving the screwdriver in what he believed to be the direction of his kidnappers chest. His wrist was seized immediately and he was shoved back down, his head colliding with the side of the trunk and making everything spin.

“Shut up!”

David’s heart stopped as he muted his side of the call, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth as he held back a scream. He couldn’t do nothing. He couldn’t just listen to this happen. “Eight-Adam-Sixteen, what do you got?”

“Air eighteen, this is 14267. We are not locating any paint trails,” he heard. They weren’t looking hard enough. This boy was doing all he could do.

A scream left Race as his hair was grabbed. All that got him was a harsh slap across the face, not enough to bruise, but enough to sting. “I said shut up! Or so help me, I will kill you right here!” But the child couldn’t just stop. He was left a whimpering mess as he tried to catch his breath. Tears formed in his eyes as the grip on his hair tightened. “Look at what you did!” his captor whined, sounding sad and angry all at once. Race didn’t know what he was talking about really. The man was staring at his hair like that made any kind of difference.

Before the boy could even think, the man shoved him back down completely, slamming the trunk over him again. Race didn’t dare reach back for the phone. The driver wasn’t done with him yet.

The man growled as he wrenched his door open again, reaching down to grab a bottle from the cup holder and then rounding towards the trunk again. That boy wasn’t going to give him away. Not today. He needed this. He pulled the trunk open again, setting down the chloroform by the child’s hip and digging a cloth out of his pocket.

“No no... please don’t... I’ll stop! Please don’t do that!” he begged, his face completely soaked with tears. His cheeks and his nose were red.

Reaching down to grab the boy’s chin, making sure he felt completely helpless, the driver leaned in close. “Don’t you dare cry,” he hissed. The child whimpered as the hand covered half of his neck and half of his face. The man held all the power. And the child was scared.

Race watched in horror as his captor reached for the drug that would knock him out, confuse him even more. He didn’t want it. It was poured on the cloth that would soon silence him. He couldn’t breathe.

“Hey buddy!” The man was quick. Far too quick for Tyler’s liking. He watched with wide eyes as the stranger shoved the small bottle into his back pocket, along with the cloth that went with it, all before that sharp screwdriver was threateningly shoved just beside his temple, a silent warning for him to not make a sound. “You okay over there?”

Plastering on a smile, the man turned from his prey, towards the guy who was too curious for his own good. “Yeah! Just some spilled paint is all...” he laughed lightly, knowing the boy was staring up at him with wide blue eyes. He didn’t look back down. Not yet.

The other man, a little older than himself, maybe, just nodded and shrugged. “Yeah... I just saw the broken taillight and the paint and... I just...” he hesitated. He needed to get back in his car and drive away before he saw something he’d regret. “I don’t know, I just thought it looked a little weird.”

Another laugh. Race flinched. “Yeah. There’s a real mess back here,” he stated, like it was okay. Like he wasn’t holding a fifteen year old captive in his trunk, tearing him away from a life that had not been easy to have. The boy curled in on himself a little when the man grinned down towards him, though he could see the bitterness in his eyes. “Real mess back here...”

“I’ll bet,” the guy replied skeptically, but the didn’t press. After standing there awkwardly for a second, waiting for the man to do something else, he just shoved his hands in his pockets and turned around. “Take care, man!”

It was concerning. The man wasn’t even frustrated by the fact that his car was a complete disaster. He wasn’t phased by the trail of white paint spilling itself out of his trunk. It was... odd. The concerned samaritan climbed back into his car, taking a second to adjust his mirrors, just to get one more look at the man.

He was beating on something. _Someone_. Immediately, the man reached for his phone, typing in three simple numbers. Though, he never got the chance to actually complete his call.

The second the car door shut behind the guy who could’ve helped him, a hand flew at Race’s chest. His captor was angry at him for almost getting him caught. He held back his screams when fists came. He shut his eyes, trying to imagine he could hear Jack coming to save him. Screaming at his father to stop touching his baby brother. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.

And then it stopped. The child gasped and dared to open his eyes, just in time to see the trunk’s lid slam back down over him. He hadn’t even been aware enough to see the man grab the shovel out from behind him. But what he was aware enough for, was to hear glass shattering and a scream resound from outside the car. Then another. And another. Metal colliding with flesh and bone again and again until there was silence. Race bit down hard on his tongue to stop himself from screaming.

“Look at what you made me do!” This man was insane. He was crazy and Race didn’t know what to do. There was no way out. He was going to die here. “He’s dead because of you!” The child could’ve vomited right there. The other man... he was dead. And it had been because he’d been trying to help.

The boy sniffled, letting his hands reach up and grip tightly around the necklace he wore. The necklace he always wore. It wasn’t anything expensive or extravagant. Just a gift his little brother had given him for his birthday once. A black string connected to a small rubber case of a guitar pick. “I’m so sorry...” he whimpered to no one, holding the thing close to his chest. He thought maybe it was over. Maybe the car would just speed off again. He was wrong.

The door was lifted and he was blinded. He only let himself cry out when a hand tightened around his arm.

David slammed down on his desk in frustration when he heard the boy screaming all over again. “No! No please don’t do this! Oh my God! No! No!”

“Shut up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... I am just so sorry
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn’t, what you’d change or what you’d improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, babes!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg! It's technically still Monday, at least where I'm at. And I'm updating!
> 
> It's been a long day.

The scene was a mystery to him. David had no idea what was happening. He couldn't see if the boy was hurt or not. He couldn't ask him either. "We need a trace, Darcy!" he cried out, his whole body shaking as he tried to figure out what to do.

"We're working on it!" Darcy called back from up the stairs to the higher platform of the room. But David spun around, angry and scared all at once.

"There's a fifteen year old out there screaming bloody murder and we haven't found him yet! Tell them to get us that damn trace!" he ordered, knowing he was pushing it. He was getting emotional. He wasn't supposed to be getting emotional. He hardly registered the fact that the other end of the call had gone quiet. All he could do was collapse down in his chair and wait.

Officer Jack Kelly gripped his steering wheel hard. Something felt so off. He couldn't place it. Everything had been fine only moments ago. Charlie was with Romeo for the day for a play date, Katherine was right here with him and Race was on his way home from the Mall...

The Mall. Forty minutes ago...

"Hey, Kath?" he asked quietly, glancing over at her. She was still gripping onto the handle above her head. It was her way of teasing him, other than constantly calling him a bad driver, that is. It was just a joke. He was an excellent precision driver. "Can you check my phone real quick?"

"Really, Jack?" she asked. "We're kinda in the middle of something here..." She knew that wasn't fair. He only asked for her to check his phone when he was feeling really nervous about something. It was odd though. He'd been fine a minute ago.

A sigh escaped Jack. "Please, Ace?"

Shrugging to herself a little bit, Katherine reached down towards the glove compartment. They really weren't supposed to check their phones right now. But if Jack had a bad feeling, Katherine would humor him. "'Mama' says 'Don't worry about the kiddos. I'll make sure they eat'. 'Spotty' says 'Fine. I'll take Charlie this weekend.' And..." Katherine paused. She hadn't expected to see that.

"What, Ace?" Jack asked, his stomach rolling with anticipation. Something was wrong. He knew it.

"You have three missed calls from Charlie. And a text. Race still hasn't showed up to get him..." That was when it clicked. That was when Jack's hands began shaking. Katherine seemed to understand too. "Jack you don't think-"

"Tyler was at Manhattan Mall. He was leaving when..." This couldn't be happening.

Immediately, Katherine brought the phone up to her ear, calling the boy. "Straight to voicemail," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

If it was possible, the squad car began going even faster. "This is Air 18 responding to that 207 off the 78. We have a visual on the Camry. I repeat we've got a code six on that Camry." Jack slammed down on the gas.

The ride to the provided area was silent. Jack barely put the car in park before he was off running, his gun pull as he rushed towards the silver vehicle, sitting alone in the dirt in the middle of nowhere. He heard the chopper circling above them. He barely caught sight of his partner rushing up beside him as they wrenched open the doors to that car.

It was empty.

"Jack! Check the trunk!" he heard Katherine call. That's where the PR had been. That's where the child could still be. So Jack did as he was told. He rounded to the back of the car, his gun still pulled as he hesitated for only a second before shoving the thing open.

"Shit..." Katherine muttered.

The young cop didn't have the strength to say anything as the situation hit him head on. There, laying discarded in a mess of white paint, was a black string connected to a guitar pick that Jack saw everyday hanging around the neck of his baby brother. "Oh my God..." he breathed, tears welling up in his eyes. Looking over, he saw his girl with the same terrified expression on her face. He didn't speak. He couldn't. Not yet.

There were more men and woman around them, trying to gather evidence. Someone yelled at Jack as he reached for the small necklace. They tried to pull him back, but he shoved them away with every ounce of strength he had.

"There's a lot of broken glass here..."

"And a lot of blood..."

Jack couldn't breathe. " _Oh my God_..." he forced out, holding the tiny object close to his chest as the reality set in. When someone else tapped him on the shoulder, Jack scowled, whirling around with a look that clearly told the other man to back off. With a new found determination, Jack shoved through everyone who was staring at him like he had two heads. He pushed himself away from everyone, reaching for the radio on his shoulder. "Jacobs..." he choked out, into the small device. "Jacobs, you tell that kid that I'm comin' for him. You tell him that I'm comin' n' that I love him n' that I'm gonna bring him home. You hear me?" He didn't have time to be angry at his friend for not telling him. He only had time to worry about his baby brother who had been taken hostage by a madman.

It took a few moments for the radio to crackle to life again. When it did, a very hesitant, very quiet voice came through. "I'm so sorry, Jackie... I'll tell him, I promise..."

Jack nodded. He couldn't be emotional right now. He could get emotional later. Later, when Race was asleep in his arms asking him to keep the nightmares away. Later when his brother was safe.

David wiped at his cheeks. God, he was _crying_. This wasn't helping. Jack sounded so scared. He shouldn't even be apart of the investigation at this point. It was a conflict of interest. But David wasn't about to say that. Anyone who dared question Jack Kelly was in for a soaking. Though, he supposed he could breathe a bit easier now that he knew that child wasn't already dead.

All he could do was sit and wait.

Tyler couldn't move. He was too scared. He thought maybe if he moved the man would come back and hurt him. He'd know somehow. The body pressed against his back did nothing the calm his down either. But he knew that he wanted to hear David's voice again. It could help. David could help. So, with every muscle in his being, rolled forward, just a little bit, shoving at the arm that was carelessly draped over his shoulder. He grabbed the phone with immense difficulty, and wiped at his eyes as he coached himself in breathing for a moment, whilst biting on his nail to try and think straight again. "D-David?" he asked quietly, almost scared there would be no answer.

Back in the hive, David practically cried in relief. "I'm here, buddy. I'm right here!" he assured quickly. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"

He had. He'd hit him. He'd shoved him. He'd threatened to stab him. But it didn't matter. "H-he switched cars..." the child whimpered, not even knowing if David could hear him over the blaring music that was once again playing from the driver's seat. Different music this time. Classical music. He didn't understand.

David's heart sunk. "What?"

Sobbing even more now, the child repeated, "He switched cars!" Race fisted at his cheeks, hating that they were soaked with his own tears. "Th-there w's a man... he was tryin' ta help but he hit him over the head n' threw him in the trunk-"

The operator's eyes widened at that. "Tyler... Tyler there's a man in the car with you?"

"-he threw him in here with me with the shovel! He said he w's gonna bury me..." He was going to die. The man confirmed it. He was going to kill him and bury him when he was done with whatever plan he had set in motion and Race was scared.

"Tyler!" David called gently, trying so hard to keep it together. "Tyler! How hurt is the man? How hurt is he?"

It was his fault. It had to be. The man had only been trying to help him. "H-he's dead..." he admitted brokenly. "H-he's gonna bury me... David, I don't wanna go..."

This poor kid was so scared. David wasn't far behind. Whoever this guy was that had entrapped a helpless child was smart and dangerous and _homicidal_. "Hey... Hey, Tyler I know you're scared, alright? I know this is hard... but you wanna know who I was just talkin' to?"

A bit of hopeful curiosity sparked in the boy's chest. "Who?"

David sniffled a little bit. "I was... I was talkin' ta Jack, kiddo..." he stated, hoping it might calm the boy down, even just a little. "He said that he loves you... he wants you to know that he's coming to get you, okay?"

Tyler's heart tightened. "O-Okay... Okay..."

"Okay..." David repeated, smiling a little when Race's breathing evened out a little bit. "Can you describe the car you're in for me, pal?"

The boy closed his eyes for a minute. He wanted to wake up now. This had to be some kind of nightmare. He wanted to wake up now. "It's... it's black..." For the first time in his whole life, Race wished he had more experience with cars. He wished he listened to Spot when he went on and on about different models and makes.

Holding back a sigh, David continued on. "Okay... okay what about the taillights? Can you kick them out?"

The shreds of hope Tyler had left we're slowly draining out of him. He reached towards the back of the car, looking for that red glow. But he shook his head. "N-no... there's some kind of metal frame blockin'-" He was cut off by a gasp from beside him. He couldn't contain his cry of fright when the dead man beside him began writhing around in panic.

"Tyler? What's happening? Are you hurt?"

Tyler didn't answer his only safety. Instead, he just reached up to cover his ears when Deadman began screaming bloody murder. "Let me out of here! Hey! What the hell?!" He was screaming so much louder than the boy imagined anyone else could've. "Help! Let me out of here!"

"Please! Shh! Please be quiet!" Race pleaded, as loudly as he dared, trying so hard to remain calm. But he knew he couldn't. This man needed to be quiet.

The driver scowled again. He could hear the screams, louder than even the music he'd been listening to. The almost calming music. The music that was getting him through. There weren't people around. If he was going to do this he had to do it now. He pulled over quick, under an overpass.

Race cried out when he felt the car come to a screeching halt. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, continuously begging the man to just shut up. "Please! Please! Shut up!" But he wouldn't. Race shoved himself as far away from the man as he could when Deadman pulled out a small cigarette lighter. The man was going to set them both of fire. He watched as Deadman reached up towards something glowing green just above them.

A release lever.

But before he could grab it, the trunk was thrown open. And just as the man sat up to fight his way out, a screwdriver was in his chest. Again and again. Three times he was stabbed. Race was sure he was dead again the first time. As the bloodied stranger was shoved back down next to him, Race found he was too petrified to scream. His mouth hung open in disbelief at what he'd just witnessed. Before he could even regain his breath, the man reached over him forcefully, wrenching the lighter from Deadman's hand and then the release lever. With his bare hands, he pulled the release lever from the car entirely.

Race only screamed when his hair was grabbed onto next, just before a hand wrapped around his neck, bringing his torso up off of the floor of the small trap he was in. His eyes widened, his big blue eyes pleading wordlessly with this man to just let him go. But the man wasn't affected by those eyes that reflected the ocean. "This. Is your last. Warning," the man seethed. Now the child really could not breathe. He was held for a lingering moment, just to let the threat sink in. And then he was quite literally thrown back into the trunk.

And Race was once again alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no more apologies. You guys know I can't stop.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, kiddos!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done it again. I missed my day to update. Sorry, friends!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

"You're telling me he left his entire goddamn car behind and you can't find a single goddamn print?!" To say Jack was frantic was an understatement. He hadn't been able to take a proper breath in far too long. He felt bad for taking his anger out on forensics. He couldn't help it. It was _his kid_ in there.

Jack was supposed to keep his kids safe. And he'd failed.

"I don't know what to tell you," one of the woman said, standing up from her position at the backside of the car. "He's smart. He wiped them."

In a moment of pure hopelessness and fury, Jack took a step towards the innocent person, just simply doing her job, ready to give her a piece of his mind, as if it was her fault that the car was clean. But Katherine bravely stepped in front of him before he could do more than raise up his fist threateningly. Her hands settled on his shoulders. He looked at her helplessly, begging for her to give him some kind of reassurance. Katherine had none to offer him. This was it. He could lose him. He could lose one of his boys. He wasn't ready and he never would be.

The young officer stomped hard before whirling around, intending to find a place to let his tears fall. "Jack-" Katherine began to call after him. He wasn't listening. He needed away. He needed anything but this. He needed his baby brother in his arms. This couldn't be happening.

In his haste, he barely caught himself before his foot crushed a large shard of glass. Most of the glass in the area had been from that of a window. This was different. This gave off a greenish tint that made the officer pause. Carefully, he squatted down to examine it. "Hey! I need this glass printed!" he called over his shoulder. "He wasn't smart enough..." he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. This slip up could be the one thing that saved them.

That saved him. His baby boy. _Racer_.

"Jack... we are going to find him," a voice assured sternly. Jack knew that much. But that wasn't the issue. It was a matter of whether or not the boy was still breathing when they did.

"I'm comin', Racer..." he promised to the child, knowing the boy couldn't hear him. But it was a promise he intended to keep none the less.

The Hive was as busy as ever. David could hardly think at this point. Silence was agonizing. It had only been ten minutes. He knew that. But it wasn't helping anything. Everyone kept watching him. It was so much to take in. This boy was so young. He had so much more life ahead of him. And it was David's responsibility to keep him alive for the time being.

"They issued an amber alert," Darcy informed from behind him. David didn't even turn as he let his head rest in his hands. He was so tired and yet he thought he may never sleep again.

"We need the trace, Darcy..." he groaned, almost all out of hope.

A hand rest on his shoulder gently, enough to make him look up at Darcy's understanding and empathetic eyes. "Just keep him on the line." And that was it. The only order David had. He knew that already. He just needed the boy to speak to him again.

Tyler could feel the blood soaking through his sweatshirt. It was slow and agonizing. The man wasn't bleeding anymore, but the jerks of the car was causing the body to press further and further against him. Race didn't know what to do. He thought about just hanging up and accepting his fate. They'd done everything they could do. But he didn't want to be alone. Not right now.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, picturing Jack's smile and Charlie's laugh. He didn't understand why this was happening to him. He was already a troubled kid with a troubled past. This whole time he'd wanted a cigarette, just to be able to calm down, even if only for a moment. He knew he wasn't perfect. But he didn't want to die. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with the family that had almost been torn apart time and time again. It wasn't fair.

Knowing he couldn't handle being alone for one more second, the child reached down for the phone again, sniffling back the tears that formed a steady stream down his cheeks and bruising neck. "David?" he breathed, trembling as he spoke. He bit his lip, waiting for a reply for only a split second that somehow felt like a millennia.

"Yes! Yes! I'm here, Tyler! I'm right here!" David rushed out, listening more carefully than he ever had in his entire life. "What happened, kiddo? What's going on?"

"H-he killed him..." Race's voice was a ghosting whisper. David could hardly hear him. Though the terror was loud and clear. "H-he was screaming n'... I tried ta stop him, but he wouldn't... n' he killed him..." That moment would forever remain in the child's brain. "It's all my fault..." he whimpered. It had to be. That's what the man had said. If it weren't for him, this man would still be alive.

At this, David's heart shattered into millions of tiny pieces that would never be put back together. "Tyler Kelly... you listen to me right now..." he demanded gently, but firmly. The boy continued to mumble about how it was all his fault and the man didn't deserve this. But David shook his head. "Hey... this is not your fault. Sometimes... sometimes we get ourselves into situations where bad things happen," he began to explain, blinking back his own tears as he recalled the event that changed his life a year ago. "Okay? N' those bad things... they're not our fault... this is not your fault, do you understand me?"

The sad truth was that the boy didn't. It always was his fault somehow. That's what his own father had told him. Why shouldn't he believe it now? The only person who told him it wasn't was his big brother.

There was no way out of this. Race was trapped. This was it. His last night before some stranger had his way. Seven billion people on the planet, and it had to be him. He just wished he could see his brothers again. "David?" he asked quietly and hesitantly, knowing this would just about break the only family he had.

"What is it, buddy? What?"

"Do you record these calls?" he asked, almost hopeful. But he knew it was also a bad thing. No doubt that if... when he was gone, Jack would listen every last word of it.

A bit confused, the operator nodded a bit. "Yeah... yeah, Tyler. We do... why?"

"Because..." He couldn't get through this. He didn't want to do this. But it was all he had. "Because I just... I wanna leave a message... for my family..." He was crying again. He couldn't stop.

"Kid, you don't have to do that... it's gonna be okay-" David tried, though even he was having trouble believing himself at that moment.

With a shake of his head, Tyler sucked in a deep breath. "Please... please... I'll be quick... just please take it..." The boy begged quietly, trying to clear his throat, trying to sound brave. He wasn't. He was so scared. But he had to do this. And when David made no move to reply, he just began to speak.

"Jack?" That one name and Race was already breaking. He wished the man could just respond to him now. "Jack... you were so much more than a big brotha' ta me..." he squeaked out, his voice cracking and his lips trembling. "You were the best fatha' that I coulda eva' asked for... you gave up so much so that I could be a kid for a little longer... n' I love you so much..." his voice was so much higher than it was normally. His throat was tight. It hurt.

David couldn't let the tears fall right now. Out of every distress call he'd ever gotten, this was by far the most heartbreaking. "Tyler... I promise you, you are going to see Jack again..."

But Race still continued. "Charlie... you are so strong... stronger than I ever was... I need you ta know that... n' I need ya to know that you're my best friend, kiddo... I love you so much..." he forced out, sucking in a breath before he finished up, with one last, heartbreaking sentence. "I'm really sorry, please don't eva' forget me..." A sob came tearing from his throat at the last words his brothers would ever hear from him. He said goodbye. This was it. "That's it... that's all I wan'ed to say... please... please make sure they get it..."

It was impossible not to cry for this child. David really hadn't expected this. This kid was so strong and he was giving up and his last wish was to say goodbye to his brothers. "Okay..." he said, sniffling as he came to his senses and realized he needed to say something to let Race know he was still there, that this wasn't over yet. "Okay, buddy... okay..." he tried his best to soothe as the boy was caught up in the fact that he'd just said goodbye. "Hey... hey, kiddo..." It wasn't working. The child was losing it. His sobs came out full and hopeless. But David still had to try. "Hey, buddy... remember... remember you told me that you were a fighter? Like Jack, right?" He had another idea. But first, he needed Tyler.

The child tried so desperately to stop crying. But every time he thought it was over, the crushing realization came back that he'd never go back home again. It hurt so badly. But he offered David a broken hum in response, "M-mhm..." he forced out through his gasps of air. His head was beginning to throb again. But he couldn't calm down for anything.

"Okay... so you know what we're gonna do, Racer?" David asked gently, hating what he was about to ask the boy to do. "We're gonna fight. You and me. We're gonna fight, okay?"

Race held his breath for a moment, nodding his head, not really knowing how to make his voice work anymore. "O-kay..." he got out eventually, though his Hope was practically gone.

Though, David had more than he did. Race had to make it out okay. He knew that Jack needed him. As much as that man tried to pretend he was a lone wolf, without his brothers he'd be lost; a shell of who he once was. "Okay... good boy... it's okay... I know this is scary, Tyler..." David sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. "But I need you to go into the man's pockets and get his wallet, for me-"

The frantic boy barely let him finish speaking. "No, no..." he groaned. The thought of touching the body laying beside him was revolting. He was having enough trouble not vomiting at the thought of it.

But the operator persisted. "Tyler, I have to know who that man is. I need to know his name," he informed the boy. He was trying so hard to be gentle. This child was scared enough as it was. "C'mon, pal. You can do it!"

Another groan escaped the kid's lips. He slowly rolled onto his back, anxiety spiking through his chest when he saw the man's open eyes staring at him. The screwdriver was still in his chest. David continued to encourage him. It was the only thing Race had that kept him going. So he carefully reached for the man's fancy looking blazer and immediately felt the man's wallet in the inside pocket. He ignored the blood that now stained his hands. He just flipped the thing open and sniffled.

"H-his name's William Hearst..." David could've screamed in victory.

"Yes! Yes, Tyler! You're a warrior, Kelly!" he grinned, typing the man's name into the system, gaining access to all his information in mere seconds. He switched over to radio, hating to leave the boy alone for even a second, but he had to get the word out. "All units, kidnap in progress," he stated again. "Male abducted at Manhattan Mall. PR is still online but in a different trunk. Black Lincoln Town Car, owner-operated. License six-queen-young-union-zero-one-seven. PR is on a disposable phone. BCC is pinging the phone but just getting single hits off cell towers. Five-mile radius, unknown direction of travel." He felt out of breath after all that. But he continued typing at his computer, desperate for anything that might help.

"Check to see if he had OnStar!" somebody behind David called. He had been trying to forget that this seemed to be the call of the day. But he glanced back at Smalls, shaking his head.

"I just did. He doesn't," David stated, his heart dropping. This kid was doing everything he was told, which David knew was a challenge for any teenager. Especially this one. He was doing everything exactly right and still they were so far from getting to him. How was it possible?

Every minute that ticked by was a minute that Tyler Kelly got further and further away from rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters left!
> 
> I know that this is the only thing I've really been updating and I apologize for that. I'm hoping to get back to my list of requests soon! I did just start back up with school, though. I'm doing my best!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, babes!


	9. Chapter 9

The gas light came on with a ding and the driver growled. This was getting more and more difficult by the second. If he was caught, that was it. It was over for him. He couldn't give up. Not know.

There was a gas station just down the road. Not many people. If his captive knew what was good for him, he'd keep his mouth shut. The man was willing to bet the kid was too scared to try and make any moves to get away from him. So, he turned into the lot quickly, trying to make this as quick and painless as possible.

But the second he got out, a man walked out of the small store just beside him. Before he could even offer to help, the driver put up his hand. "I got it," he stated pointedly, not wanting this man to slow him down or come anywhere close to the car at all. The man nodded, but did not leave.

Still holding the phone close to his ear, gripping onto it like a lifeline, Tyler listened as carefully as he could. They were stopped again, but he couldn't hear footsteps coming near him. He couldn't hear people. "I-I think we're at a gas station..." he whispered, not daring to be any louder than that.

"Okay... can you hear anybody?" David asked, praying the man had been stupid enough to go to a public place.

But Tyler just sniffled and sadly whispered back a small, "no..." Of course not. Because this man was smart. "J-Just music..." Loud, loud music. Race just wanted the loud music to stop all together. He'd give anything to hear Jack sing to him, quietly, with nothing to accompany him. Just his soft voice humming along to some tune the boy couldn't ever place as he drifted off to sleep in his lap.

David held back a groan. "Okay..." he said, not entirely sure what to say at this point.

Race could vaguely hear his captor outside, trying to get someone, a gas station attendant probably, to stop trying to help him. The other man was relentless. He was determined to do something. Race just moaned in anticipation. If he didn't do something, he felt as though he was just letting all of this happen. And then the device made a small noise in his hand. He looked only to find that low battery sign blinking. His head dropped backwards, hitting the floor of the trunk, though an idea did occur to him. He tried shining the small light from the phone around the small space he was encased in until it landed on a small piece of fabric, on the other side of Deadman.

"Tyler, talk to me... what's going on?"

Tyler shushed him quietly, not wanting to be caught. He could do this. He could fight. For Jack and Charlie, he could fight. "I think I's got n' idea..." he whispered before shoving the small device into his back pocket and beginning to climb over the body beside him.

Holding his breath, the operator listened as carefully as he could. He couldn't hear anything. He wanted desperately for the boy to tell him what he was thinking. The man that had him was insane. And smart. And dangerous. And for some reason, he really wanted Tyler. He couldn't easily be stopped. But there was nothing David could do right then but let that boy do what he thought was right.

"C'mon... c'mon, c'mon..." Race begged, pounding his fist against the leather that separated him from the center of the vehicle. The thing was beginning to give way. He could do this. He could fight his way out. He had to.

When he finally made the hole, he knew it was a long shot. He was a skinny kid and everyone knew it, but even this was a little small. Still, as quietly as he could, he snaked his arms through that hole, managing to pull his torso through before he knew he couldn't move any farther. He saw the man outside to his left. And there was someone else. The attendant. He was moving around some boxes or something. Race didn't exactly know what his next move was. He tried to look around the car, searching for a weapon of some kind when his eyes landed on the television just inside the store to his right.

His heart stopped when his own picture stared back at him. All of his information was up there for the world to see. If people didn't know he was taken, they sure did now. His friends, his teachers, his peers... everyone. Even a stranger at a gas station. This was Tyler's only chance.

Waving his arms around, the boy tried to stay quiet. He only wanted one of the men to look his way. He prayed it was the right one. But it wasn't working. So Tyler did the only thing he could think to do. He screamed. "Please! Help me! Please!" He banged on the window to his right as the helper turned around in shock at the sudden cried. "Please! Get me outta here! I don't know him! He's gonna kill me!"

The man's eyes widened as he saw the boy. The same one who had just gone missing. "Oh my God!" he cried out, rushing towards the door that the child was hitting so desperately. The kid's face was completely soaked and red from crying. But the second the man tried to open the door, the driver clicked on the lock, sealing the boy inside. "You open this door right now!" he demanded, locking eyes with the young teenager, trying to convey to him that he wasn't going to leave him there.

The driver stared at him, almost scared that his plan had been ruined. He was so close. He couldn't get caught now. But the kind man rounded the car, a knife pulled from his pocket, blade ready to kill. "Step away," he ordered slowly, holding his hand out for the keys.

A glimmer of hope shot through Tyler's spine. The driver seemed taken aback. Maybe it wasn't over. Maybe he'd see Jack and Charlie again.

But his captor wasn't going to give up so easily.

In a desperate move, the man took the nozzle he still held in his hand and pointed it at the guy, spraying his eyes first so he'd stumble backwards, before making sure he covered the rest of his body. "No! No!" he heard his captive scream. He didn't stop. Instead, he gave the child a bored look, more annoyed than anything else, as he fished the small lighter he'd snagged from Deadman out of his pocket, lighting it up and then throwing it at the man.

He let the burning man flail and scream as he stomped towards the trunk, only shaking his head when the child tried to squirm through the small hole he created. The boy wasn't fast enough. He shoved the trunk open, grabbing the boy's legs and pulling him back before shoving him back down in the small compartment.

David couldn't breathe, only listen in horror at what he was happening on the other end of this call.

Tyler only continued to scream, hoping that there might be another single person around to overpower this madman with super human strength. "No! No! Please! Please!" he cried out, feeling rough hands on his arms and legs. He tried to kick or punch or do anything. But the man put a knee over his thrashing legs and held his wrists down forcefully. "Get offa me! Let go!"

"You stupid, little piece of shit!" the driver screamed, making the boy squeeze his eyes shut in pure terror. "You just keep on killing people." Tyler spat at him, anger rising up in him. He was just trying to survive. He somehow slipped his hands from the grip, shoving at the man's chest. "Come here!" his captor ordered. But the boy just shook his head, wildly fighting against the hold that seemed to only get stronger by the second.

In a moment of pure fury at being taken from everything he loved, the child sat up as much as he could, shoving at the man hard, almost forcing him off of him. "You _motherfucker_!" he screamed as loudly as he could. He thought maybe he'd stunned the man. He tried to free his legs so he could kick him off. But before he could even think of anything to do or say, the man's fist reared back and Tyler's deep blue eyes widened in terror.

The last thing he remembered before the darkness came, was a pain exploding around his right eye.

Pacing had never been one of Jack's nervous ticks. But today, he couldn't seem to stop. There was a full, perfect finger print on this small piece of glass. This had to be it. This had to be the thing that let him find his little brother who was probably scared to death right now, talking to a stranger who was his only connection to any kind of safety in the world. He was grateful that it was Davey, at the very least. He did know that man. But Tyler didn't. He wished so desperately that he could just talk to the child, tell him he loved him. He'd give anything to hear his voice one more time.

"We got him!" Jack's heart lurched at the news. He rushed over to the computer in the back of the forensics van. Katherine was at the front of the crowd, reading off the name. "Jameson Lewis Snyder. Records clean on this guy..." she stated. "He was arrested for arson a few years back, but he was cleared. That's our guy..."

Jack grabbed for his radio. "Jacobs! Jameson Lewis Snyder. That's his name."

Doing his best to keep calm, David shoved himself forward from his slouched position in his chair. He typed in the name rapidly, narrowly hitting the right keys. "Got him," he radioed back immediately. "Thirty-eight, Six-one, hundred ninety six pounds. Current address four-fifty-one Shannon Court."

Jack barely had the strength to yell out a quick, "let's go!" Before he was off an running back to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm horrible. I know I am.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, kiddos!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday all!
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a twenty minute drive turned to ten. By the time they got there, Jack was even more stressed. He could hardly take in a proper breath before he and Katherine shared a small nod. They only waited a few more seconds to hear more squad cars pulling up before they both rushed out of the car, guns drawn.

Bursting through the door, the two cops began the search. Jack had little hope that his boy was there. David said that he was still locked in the back of a trunk. But he was going to look, none the less. He didn't make it very far before he hit the dining room. A woman and a little girl met his sight. They were civilians. He put his gun down as more cops rushed through.

"Is Jameson Snyder in this house?" he demanded as the woman jumped up, immediately stepping in front of her daughter. She did not answer him. He didn't blame her for wanting to protect her kid. But he needed this woman to speak to him. "Are you his wife?" Still, the small Hispanic woman did not respond.

"Upstairs is clear!" Katherine called, rushing back into the room to see her boyfriend seething at a woman who may or may not have something to do with his baby boy getting taken.

The young man scowled when all she did was stare at him, like she didn't know that this was urgent. "Answer me!" he demanded.

A flinch followed, almost making Jack feel bad. But he didn't back down. "Yes! Yes! I'm his wife!"

"Where is your husband?!" he demanded. Again, she remained silent. Katherine tried to put a hand on his shoulder. She wanted him to calm down. He couldn't.

Pushing him back a bit, the young woman turned to the homeowner, taking a deep breath. "Please... it's crucial. Where is your husband?" she asked, gentler than her man did. "A life is on the line here. We need to know."

The woman seemed angry that they'd stormed into her house. No doubt she didn't know. She didn't know that her husband was a monster. But she didn't speak. Not until Jack took another step forward and Katherine had to rush in front of him to keep him at bay. "He's at work! My husband is at work!" the woman insisted, shouting at them, still holding her daughter behind her.

Katherine nodded gently, gripping onto Jack's arm as she holstered her gun back at her hip. "Where? Where does he work?"

"Downtown! At the Med Center," she yelled at them, only conveying that she wanted them out of her house even more as she looked around the pair to see more men and woman searching her home for something. "He's a Med Tech!" she finished, as if that somehow made it better.

It only made Jack feel nauseous. A madman with medical knowledge. That was beyond dangerous. _Wonderful._

The look on Jack's face stated nothing but fear. Katherine couldn't blame him. She wanted so desperately for him to go home. He was too close to this. He was too emotionally driven right now when he needed to take a breath and think like a cop instead of a parent. But she knew he couldn't do that. She hardly could either. But she looked back at the man's wife, shaking her head at the fury written across her face as she shielded her child from people that wouldn't dare think about harming the small girl. "When did he leave?"

"What the hell is this?! Get out of my house!"

Jack was angry. He was angry and scared and frantic and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't keep glaring at the woman who more than likely had nothing to do with this. But the second he tried to look somewhere else, his eyes locked with those of a little girl who couldn't have been more than seven. Finally, he took a deep breath and let himself fall back into cop mode. He couldn't do this. Tyler would only be in more danger if he let his fear and anger control this investigation. "Ma'am... you're not going to want to hear this in front of your daughter..." But before he could get her into another room, explain why he was so frantic and angry, another cop rushed in.

"Kelly... you're gonna wanna see this..."

Darcy ran a rough hand through his hair. This was a rough one. They couldn't get more than a five mile radius trace. This boy was terrified and David wouldn't be able to keep it together for very much longer.

"Hey! We just got a call! Burn victim up at a gas station near Jersey." It was Specs. The other man rushed up to him in a haste. "Some guy doused him and witness says he drove off in a car. Guess what model?"

The supervisor hardly had to think. "A black Lincoln," he answered sharply, shaking his head. No doubt the witnesses had also seen a boy struggling to get free of a madman. He understood why they'd be scared to help, but that didn't make it any less heartbreaking. "Get the gas station and go tell David," he ordered, scratching the back of his head. They were running out of options here for this kid.

He just hoped the boy was as strong as they all knew he could be.

"Charlie... are you hungry, kiddo?"

Hungry. That was funny. Like Charlie could be hungry at a time like this. He was scared. More scared than he'd ever been in his life. In his small, short life.

No one was answering his calls. He'd thought he was imagining things at first. That the boy on the television just happened to look like his big brother. But he'd tried to call Race.

Straight to voicemail.

The child shook his head at his friend's foster father. But his eyes never moved from the blank screen. He didn't want to turn it back on, but the image that had popped up wouldn't leave his brain.

He was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, tears running down his face. Romeo was sitting in the kitchen with his foster dad.

But the old man walked over to him, leaving Romeo up on the counter and sitting on the ottoman between the child and the blank television. "I wanna go home..." the boy whimpered, turning his head as more tears slid down his cheeks.

He'd only stopped sobbing a few moments ago. He couldn't stop himself from starting all over again.

Race was gone. He was missing. Someone had taken him. No one knew how or why or where and Charlie didn't have his family with him. Not any of them. Jack was trying to find Race and Katherine was out there with him and Charlie was here, feeling more alone than he'd ever felt in his life.

"Charlie... have your brothers ever not come back to you?" the man asked quietly.

Shaking his head, Charlie wiped vigorously at his cheeks. A sob escaped him. His brothers always came back. Even when they ran, they came back. They'd come back, they had to. But... this felt different.

"I'm scared, Mr. Kloppman..." he admitted, brokenly.

Mr. Kloppman offered a sad smile. This boy was so young and innocent, despite all that he'd been through in his small life. "I know, kid..." All he could do was reach to scoop the kid up and hold him close. "I know..."

Jack followed another man through the house that he had no real desire to explore. His boy wasn't here. They were hitting another dead end. The other man lead him into a small corner office off the living room, stopping in front of something that made Jack's heart stop for a moment. "What the hell...?" he muttered.

"This is Snyder's office," the guy explained. "Thought this kid kinda looked like our PR- er... like-"

"Tyler..." Jack breathed out. It was official. This man was insane and the young police officer was terrified to even think about what was going on in the man's mind, about what that evil, terrible man was planning on doing.

A shrine stood tall, covering every inch of the back wall of the room. A shrine to a boy. A boy with curly blond hair and deep, deep blue eyes that could make anyone fall in love in a second. Eyes so much like Race's, Jack couldn't stop seeing him. There were so many pictures of the tall, thin teenager. Clearly the kid liked attention. And Snyder had given it to him. But it was clear to Jack that this boy was gone. He didn't want to read the small frame, just below the biggest picture of the child who couldn't smile enough. _"My son,"_ it began. _"I never thought I'd lose you so soon..."_

Blinking back tears, Jack stumbled backwards. He brought a hand up to cover his mouth. He was going to be sick. His baby brother had eyes like that too. Eyes that were mesmerizingly blue, and a smile that was more contagious than anything else. And he loved attention too, just like this kid who had hundred of pictures of himself scattered everywhere. Jack hadn't protected him enough from any of this madness. He hadn't seen it coming. And he was more scared than he ever had been in his entire life.

"Eight-Adam-Sixteen, we have a witness that puts suspect eight miles north of you!" came David's voice over the radio. Jack barely had enough strength to reach for the thing.

"Roger... he's not here..." Jack informed gravely. His voice cracked. He didn't care. He was about to collapse with fear and hopelessness.

It was getting harder and harder to see that boy coming out of this alive. David knew that even if they could save him, he may never be the same kid again. He sighed, knowing Jack wanted an update of some kind. "The PR-" but David was cut off by feedback. He knew Jack was stopping him.

"Don't gimme that, David... it ain't a PR... it's _Tyler_..." Jack said.

With a small shake of his head, David began again. "Tyler's still on the line. He's not responding..." It was heartbreaking, the silence that he got in return. Jack was losing hope too. David blinked the tears out of his eyes. This was cruel. The world was cruel to these boys. They'd only wanted to be together. "Do you have anything, Jack?"

Glaring at the shrine, the young officer just shrugged. "I don't know..." But he was damn well going to find out. He swore to himself that when he did find this man, he'd kill him. No one touched his family and got away with it. This man was going to pay.

Tyler couldn't wake up. He couldn't open his eyes. He wanted to open his eyes. He wanted to fight. David told him to fight. But his head hurt so bad. He could hardly move as the car pulled to a slow stop. The phone was still in his back pocket. He had to reach it. He had to talk to Davey.

He just couldn't.

Without warning, without any kind of build up, the trunk was thrown open. In the state he was in, Race couldn't even react as his arm was grabbed. He was forced up, his torso being thrown over his captors shoulder. All the child could whimper out was a small, "please... please please..." He tried to struggle. He couldn't. He was tired and hungry and thirsty and he couldn't move.

It wasn't long before he felt the man still beneath him. His breath caught in his throat when he felt the small device slip from his back pocket. "Shit!" the man hissed. Tyler flinched. "You little..." he didn't even finish. Tyler tensed.

"David!" he screamed. "David! Please! David!" The boy was sure he'd never been so terrified in his life. His screams were weak and his reach for the small device was even more so. "No! No! Let me go! Let me go!" the child writhed as hard as he could, finally prying his eyes open. Well, one of them at the very least. He came to find his right eye was completely swollen shut. And the second he could even see a little bit of the surrounding world, the kid was thrown to the ground. "Ple-hease... please don't hurt me..." the child sobbed out, a dull pain taking over his back. He tried to beg. All it got him was a hand coming up to cover his lips, firmly and harshly. He grabbed at the man's wrist, clawing at the exposed skin with both hands and all the strength he had. The sad reality was, the man was stronger than him. Stronger than anyone Tyler had ever met. It was dangerous.

All David could hear were harsh, irregular breaths. They didn't belong to the Kelly boy. Though the muffled scream that he heard certainly did. "Shut up!" That was him.

That was Snyder.

The operator couldn't breathe. This man was dangerous. Crazy. He had a child. This wasn't an accident. He knew what he was doing. "Jameson?" he called, trying so hard to sound in charge. He knew he wasn't. He wasn't the one with a fifteen year old squirming underneath him. He didn't have any kind of power. "The police know who you are, Jameson Snyder. They're at your house right now, with your family."

The man stared down at the boy beneath him. He wouldn't even look at him. The child wiggled uselessly, desperately clawing at his hand, more than likely having trouble taking a proper breath. Snyder felt a small tug in his heart. When he looked at this boy, all he saw was the blond hair, those blue eyes, that thin stature. He didn't see a boy taken away from another life. "Shhhhhhh..." But the kid wouldn't stop. The man didn't press. He just scowled at the phone in his hand. "Who the hell is this?"

David tried to take a deep breath. He couldn't just start screaming for him to let that kid go. He had to stay calm. "This is 911 emergency services. And we have your prints at the scene of a murder," he explained, carefully. If this man hurt Tyler because of something he said, he didn't think he'd ever be able to live with himself. "The only thing you can do right now... is turn yourself in..." He prayed this crazy man would understand the situation he'd gotten himself into.

With a small growl, Snyder shoved his captive further into the ground as he struggled against him, though every move he made was slow and weak. The driver straddled the child's hips, pinning him down, but removing his hand from the kid's face. Immediately, Tyler was begging again. "Please lemme go-o... please... I wan' Jack..." he sobbed out.

That small voice travelled through the phone, only making David feel more helpless. "Listen to me... you do not have to hurt that little boy..." he pleaded lightly, his voice losing its command for a second. "Don't hurt that little boy... let him go..." This kid was fifteen. He was so young. "You do not have to do this."

Loud, rushed breaths met David's ears. He could hear Tyler begging relentlessly somewhere in the background. He could hear the child's sobs and whimpers. And then three words were said that would be engraved in the operators mind forever.

"It's already done."

"No. No, please! No! No!"

And then the line went dead.

David couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He just sat there, watching in horror as the trace disappeared completely. His eyes watered up as shock and terror rolled through his whole body. It wasn't over. It couldn't be over. He couldn't have just lost that boy. It couldn't all just be gone.

"The signal died." Darcy's voice had no affect on David. He was too busy trying to hold back his tears as he suddenly became nauseous. That was Jack's little boy. He lost him. "We lost the trace..." The younger man knew that. How could he not? He couldn't stop staring at the screen in front of him as his hands found their way into his hair and he began gripping onto his own head, trying to get out of the nightmare he was trapped in.

"Jameson Snyder is the same man who killed Benjamin Neilson..." he muttered out, wishing he could just scream.

A hand found his shoulder. He tensed. "David-" But David didn't want to hear it. He whirled around, standing up, still blinking back tears.

"It's the same man!" he repeated, earning even more attention. He wanted to break something. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He wanted to hurt that man. "It's the same man..." How was that even possible?

He couldn't take it. He couldn't sit there anymore with an endless silence. The boy was gone. Darcy didn't stop him when he stumbled by, headed straight for The Quiet Room. He couldn't take it. He had to get out.

He lost him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> I'm gonna go hide now.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what's you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, friends!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: things do start to get a bit more graphic starting now. It's not really super graphic in this chapter, but this is just when it's starts to get a little bit graphic.
> 
> Hello friends! Happy Monday! I hope you're all doing well!
> 
> Alright, here's chapter 11!
> 
> Enjoy!

"Eight-Adam-Sixteen... we lost the trace. I repeat, we lost the trace..."

Jack couldn't breathe. The trace was gone. That meant Tyler wasn't on the phone with David anymore. That meant they were running out of time. He kept glaring at the pictures, like he was missing something, silently begging them to tell him where his little brother was. He had to make it. He had to get to Race.

That was when something caught his eye.

"Can you tell me if there's a place your husband might've taken him?" Katherine asked, more politely than she could help. She wished she could start screaming at this woman. This wasn't just another case. This was personal.

But the woman was insistent. "There is no place! Jameson wouldn't do something like this!" Her daughter had been sent to her room, after an officer had checked it for her. She was screaming at them now. Demanding they leave her house. They didn't. Not with a life on the line. Not with _Tyler's_ life on the line.

Katherine didn't get to argue. Jack rushed into the room, a small picture frame in his hands. "This house! Where is it?" he demanded, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. The picture was of Snyder and his son, leaning against an old car in front of a grey house. The man looked younger. Happy.

The small woman made a grab for the thing, only for the officer to hold it out of her reach. "You have no right-"

"I have every goddamn right!" Jack cut her off. He was terrified. But he couldn't show it. If he admitted he was scared that would make it all too real. "Where is the house?" He tried so hard to calm down, to lower his voice. It wasn't working.

The wife shook her head, tears meeting her eyes quickly. She was confused and scared. "It... it's where Jameson grew up..."

Before Jack could burst out with another shout, Katherine grabbed his arm again, attempting to calm him. "Where is it?" she asked again.

"It's gone!" Mrs. Snyder insisted. "Burned down years ago!"

"Burned down?" Katherine repeated, recalling that the man had been booked for arson. But he'd been released.

Jack shook his head, turning the picture back around. "What about this cottage?" he asked, pointing to the small thing in the background, behind the pair. "This red one? Behind the house."

"It's ours..." she replied hesitantly, still angry these people had burst into her home unannounced.

Jack gently shrugged out of his girl's grip. "What does that mean? You still own it?" he rushed out. Tyler could be there. He could be so close to finding his baby brother.

"Yes! It's ours! Jameson's been renovating it-" Her own eyes widened at the words. She put a hand over her mouth as she gasped coming to the same realization that Jack did. That was it. That was Snyder's hiding spot. He had to get there. He had to see Tyler. He had to get him out.

"Ma'am... a boy might die if you don't help us. A fifteen year old kid, you understand?" he clarified, not fully wanting to admit to this stranger that the boy was his. "Tell us where it is."

It took much too long before the woman complied.

"This is eight-Adam-sixteen, I need to run a plate."

David lifted his head immediately off of his desk at Jack's voice. He got his computer ready. He didn't ask what the car was. He just got ready to look it up. "One-Mary-two-five-eight-Lincoln-nine."

A picture popped up on his screen. "We've got an old registration here. Jason Snyder... seventeen. Deceased." As he read off the details, he couldn't help but stare at the kid, catching the resemblance immediately.

Jack nodded, though he knew David couldn't see him. He still couldn't catch his breath, even as Katherine placed a hand on his shoulder. "Supervisor says he left before noon..." she stated, phone in her hand. Jack sniffled as he exited the house, trying to make it to the car before he completely lost it. There was a chance that they weren't too late. Whatever this man wanted his little brother for would surely take a little time. He just needed to get there.

But a small voice over the radio made him slow just a little. "Jack?"

"Yeah..." he responded, his strength just about gone all together. But he had to keep going. He had to get Racer.

"Jameson Snyder... he's the same man that killed Benjamin Neilson..." came David's hesitant voice. Jack almost fell to the ground at the news. He didn't even bother running to the driver's seat in his state, he just grabbed for the passenger side door and collapsed. Benjamin Neilson was dead. If Jack remembered correctly, it hadn't been pretty.

There had been _so much blood._

Taking a deep breath and handing his partner the keys when she held out her hand, Jack shook his head, swallowing hard. "Are you sure?"

As much as David didn't want it to be true, he knew it was. He knew that voice. He knew those words. "Yes..." he replied, his voice full of sorrow. "Be careful..." he warned. And then that was it. He got no word back. He could only pray Jack found that kid at that old cottage.

Empty. It was empty. Of course it was empty. Jack couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. When the final "clear" was yelled out all he could think to do was shake his head and break whatever was closest to him. It was a vase. The thing shattered on the ground and everyone around him pulled their weapons, not knowing what just happened. Jack didn't flinch. He just wanted to destroy something. He grabbed another glass fixture, not even noting what it was before he threw it against the wall.

His own life was being destroyed. Why shouldn't he be able to break something else?

He went to just begun knocking things off the shelves and the walls until small but strong arms wrapped around him. "Jack!" Katherine called. "You have to calm down..."

"He's not here, Ace!" Jack cried back, finally just letting the tears stream down his face. "We don't know where else he would be!" He felt more than hopeless right now. He just wanted his baby. "Tyler's just a kid... and I'm s'posed ta protect him..."

In that stupid little shack, Jack lost it, completely terrified. He turned in his girl's arms and fell apart while another cop took the lead, ordering a perimeter around the old cottage. "He probably got scared off, Jack. He can't be far... we're gonna get him..." But Jack still couldn't move. Because Tyler was supposed to be here. Tyler was supposed to be safe. "Okay? But you need to pull it together. Tyler is still out there, waiting for you. You have to be a cop right now..."

As much as Jack wanted to argue, as much as he wanted to be big brother, legal guardian, he knew Katherine was right. He needed to pull it together. So he nodded onto her shoulder, taking in a deep breath and pulling away, just enough to see the unshed tears in the woman's eyes as well. Her and Tyler were close. His girl was close with both of his boys. They shouldn't be working this case right now.

But they couldn't stop.

Jack shook his head, grabbing his radio. "Eight-Adam-Sixteen, Snyder ain't here. The place is clear. No sign of the Lincoln either. We're settin' up a barricade around the five mile radius." And then he was off, back in cop mode, barely holding on by a thread as his brother was still out there somewhere, waiting for rescue.

David shook his head, gripping his hair tightly. He didn't have to look behind him to know his supervisor was standing there. "I know," he said, before Darcy could even get a word in. "I said his name. I scared him off." This was his fault. He'd screwed up again. Another boy was going to die because he did something stupid.

"No." Well, David certainly hadn't been expecting that. It felt like it was his fault. He was responsible for that kid. The second he'd taken the call, keeping that boy alive was his job.

"Snyder found the cell. He would've disconnected no matter what," Darcy explained carefully, knowing his friend was emotional. It had been a long day. That call was long and that boy was scared and that took a toll on a person. "You did everything you were supposed to do exactly right." David had worked with him for years. He'd hired him. He'd trained him. They were close. He knew David fairly well. Which is why he hated what he had to say next. "I want you to go home..."

Immediately, the younger man was up on his feet, stepping towards him, trying to look threatening. "I'm not going home!"

Though David may have had about an inch on him, he knew the guy better than that. David would never do anything as stupid as to lash out at him. They were friends. They'd been to each other's homes. David had met his husband and he'd met David's little brother. "This isn't a request, David. You want closure, you're not gonna get it." That was one of the rules. Once it was out of there hands, there was no going back. "He's not you're responsibility anymore-" he tried, but the other man shook his head.

"That was Jack's brother, Darcy! Jack Kelly's little brother! He was counting on me ta get him out-"

"And you did everything you could!" Darcy short back. "I know you and Jack are friends and I know you wanted to bring his brother back to him, but it is not your responsibility," he explained sternly. "Go home, David. Take care of yourself..." He left it at that. He knew there was a fat chance of the younger man just giving up and leaving. He would eventually. Just not yet. And Darcy couldn't press it anymore. He turned, hearing the man collapse back down in his chair. With a sigh he just continued on, leaving him alone with a recorded conversation and his own thoughts.

A dentist chair. That was his knew prison. Tyler hated the dentist. Jack still had to trick him into going and he was fifteen years old. He was never going again. Not if he got out of this.

The chair was old. Practically antique. It moved fast and easily. The man had shoved him down onto it after completely stripping him of his sweatshirt and t-shirt, leaving his chest completely bare. It was laying down flat. The boy could see the blood on the back of it. It took everything in him not to vomit immediately. His wrists were strapped down, even as he fought against his captor, weak as ever. Once the tight straps were in place, the man walked around him, smirking at Tyler's attempts to get himself free. The boy whimpered when the guy's thumb traced over his jaw. He tried to turn away, but that only got his chin grabbed as the man leaned closer to him, staring into his eyes like he could see right through him.

Without warning, the man reached under the chair, pulling back a lever so he could shove the boy into sitting position. Tyler's one eye was wider than he was sure it ever had been in his life. He gasped when the back of the chair locked and the thing was pushed forward, wheels squeaking slightly as he was rolled through the dark hallways towards a circle shaped room. The boy was confused. He couldn't remember the way in, which meant he didn't remember the way out. He couldn't fight. He didn't know what this man wanted.

He was shoved into the middle of the darkness as the man reached up for a light on the ceiling. It was a small, exposed bulb that didn't do much to brighten up the room. It didn't ease Tyler's panic in anyway. He watched the man as his back turned. His eyes wandered to the different tools that surrounded him. Scissors, knives, medical supplies; things that already scared him to death. And then the room was swallowed up in loud music. Tyler shivered. He hated it. It was another old song. He couldn't place it. He was too frantic. Because the man was turning back to him.

Screaming would get Race nowhere and he knew it. There was no one around for miles. He was alone. Jack wasn't coming. Jack couldn't find him. Not here. He was going to die.

The child tried to wiggle away from his captor. It did nothing. The man grabbed onto the chair, pushing it backwards without saying a word. And then, again without warning, the thing was laid back with a fast click, making Race cry out in fear. He fought against the restraints, kicking upwards, not knowing what that would do but praying it would do something. All it got was his ankles grabbed onto and fought back down. The more he fought, the less he paid attention to the man and what he was doing. He didn't expect something plastic to be roughly shoved over his nose and mouth.

The man fought to be emotionless as he continued on, grabbing a tank of gas and a medical mask, pressing it tightly over the child's face. The fighting stopped almost immediately, though the boy did try to turn away from him. Nitrous oxide. It would put him at ease for a few minutes while he began his process. He let the boy inhale a few times before removing the mask, smiling at the child's weakened state.

Tyler knew he was crying again. He could barely move. He had every right to be crying. He let the sobs escape his lips and the tears roll down his cheeks as he was pushed even further back. Until he could see a sink faucet just above his head. He didn't know what the man was about to do. But he didn't like it.

The freezing cold water made him tremble more than he had been prior. He fought pathetically against the straps, against the man's hold. Nothing was working. He whimpered and begged for his big brother, but it didn't matter. The man wasn't listening to him. He just took the head of that faucet, not bothering to warm the water at all. Race just shivered as the man began washing his hair.

It was an intimate gesture. Jack used to do it for him, when he was sick to the point of barely being able to get out of bed, or when he'd done something stupid, like let Albert dye his hair on a dare. Jack always made sure he was gentle. Jack always made sure he was comfortable. This man didn't care. He was cleaning Race's hair like it was filthy. The boy was sure the paint that stained his curls wasn't helping at all. He let out small words of hurt, quietly asking the man to stop. He continued on, roughly scrubbing shampoo into his blond locks. The man kept the soap out of his eyes, but he continued to soak the child's whole face in the water, only laughing when Tyler became even more frightened; fear of drowning taking him over.

When it was over, and his hair was a soaked mess, the chair was snapped back into sitting position. Race was still trapped. He gasped for air, letting his one working eye dart around the room, looking for any kind of escape as his captor circled him, running hands through his wet hair before walking over to a table of gleaming knives and scissors. Tyler didn't protest as the man pulled up another chair from the darkness and grabbed some scissors off that table, smiling at the child.

"Don't move," the man ordered, turning the volume up even louder on his small stereo. Tyler couldn't stop squirming. He twisted his wrists around, digging his nails into the chair's arms before his heart stuttered in his chest. The strap loosened. Only a little. But Tyler didn't expose himself. Not yet. He had to be smart.

Don't panic. Breathe. Be smart.

His whimpered as his hair was cut without his consent. What was carefully cut fell down in his eyes. He didn't like the man's hands on his cheeks, wiping it all off. And once the man was satisfied enough to put the scissors down, Race took his chance.

The boy ripped his wrist out of the restraint, getting the other one free in seconds and reaching for the first thing he could grab. It was a can, though the contents of which remained a mystery to him. The second the man turned around, he sprayed it in his face, satisfied when the man screamed. And then he did the thing he'd always done best.

He ran.

Which direction to go, now that was the question. He chose a tunnel on his left, feeling his heart drop into his stomach when he didn't find the exit he was looking for. All he saw was a door. But one glance behind him at the man regaining his ability to see and Race didn't care. At least locking himself inside might give him a second to think. So he did. He rushed inside that dark room and locked the door with a lock that was much too flimsy for his liking.

He stood against the door, leaning against it as he heard a bang on the other side. Tyler jumped at the noise, but did not move. He didn't want to go back out there. He didn't want to just give himself up. He wanted to fight. He had to fight. He had to fight to get back to Jack.

But then he heard a low chuckle on the other side of that door. "Oh... you're not gonna wanna see that..." the man growled evilly. Race sniffled. He didn't know what exactly else he could do, other than let his curiosity get the better of him.

He looked around for a light switch, finding one just within his reach. And when he clicked it on, the sight that greeted him made him go weak in the knees. His eye widened again, pulling at the swollen skin around his black one and reminding him how much pain he was in. He couldn't breathe. It was happening all over again. He was going to be sick.

There was so much blood.

He stumbled away from the door, only for it to literally be broken down. Tyler barely had the energy to flinch away as he continued fighting back his scream. The man didn't seem to care. The cry was building up in his throat, only becoming stronger and stronger by the second until the thing finally fought its way out of the kid's mouth, only for a hand to clamp down over it as another strong arm wrapped tightly around his torso. The boy screamed anyway, struggling madly in the grip. He had to get away. He had to get out.

Kicking and screaming, the boy was dragged out of the room, back to his small death chair as he cried out and lashed out, praying he could be saved even though he knew this was it.

He was going to die. And there was no one who could stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I'll make you a deal... if we can get to 30 reviews between this site and FanFiction.Net, I will post the next chapter early.
> 
> Reviewing twice doesn't count!
> 
> Okay... I'm still hiding.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, babes!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we didn't quite make it to 30 reviews, but that's okay! Because it's Monday!
> 
> Welcome back!
> 
> TW; This chapter gets a tiny bit more graphic, as we do discover part of what happened to Benjamin Neilson.

It would be stuck in his brain forever, those three horrific words that meant another child was being tortured just out of their reach.

_It's already done..._

He listened to himself talk a fifteen year old through being kidnapped and thrown into the back of a car. He listened to that boy scream and panic again and again. He listened to himself promise that he was going to be okay. He wished to scream. He couldn't. There had to be some kind of clue in here. He skipped through the message, to the end where those words had been said.

All he could hear was that harsh breathing and the whimpering of a boy who should be at home, asleep, worrying about an essay that he forgot to do rather than worrying about whether he'd see tomorrow or not.

_"It's already done."_

Then Tyler screamed. And...

David went back. He listened again.

_"It's already done."_

Then Tyler screamed. And something clanged around in the background.

He listened to it again, grateful for the chance to make the man's voice go quiet.

 _"It's already done."_ came the cruel words that sounded like nothing more than a whisper. Then Tyler screamed. And then the sound of metal hitting metal. A loud, annoying sound that David groaned at hearing. He didn't know what he was planning on accomplishing from this. That sound could be millions of things, why would it be important now?

The man felt even farther away from the kid than he had before. It was hopeless. Darcy was right. This was out of his hands. With a frustrated groan, the man threw the headset onto the table and ran a rough hand through his messy hair.

David knew what he was about to do was beyond pointless. Darcy wanted him to go home and David should've listened to him. But as he stood up to go, he wasn't thinking about going to relax. He was thinking about he wouldn't be able to sleep unless that kid was found. So when he got in his car, he found himself on the seventy-six towards Jersey without a clue what he'd find when he made it to the middle of nowhere.

There were police cars at every turn. He was stopped at least three times on the way up. His car was searched. He didn't care. He gladly let them search. It made him feel better that they were checking every car that came in and out of the perimeter.

It was a long drive. About an hour with all the stops. But eventually, David made it to that cottage. He knew they checked it. Hell, he knew _Jack_ checked it. But something didn't sit right with him. They had been headed this way. David had watched it happen. He'd watched that trace the whole time. This was the only shack for miles. Where else could they have possibly gone?

Grabbed a flashlight out of his glove compartment, he slid out of the car and slowly wandered into the small house. The door creaked open, the sound making the man take pause. He waited breathlessly for some faceless monster with a hook for an arm to grab him out of the room and start clawing him to death. Though, he supposed, if the monster was the kidnapper, maybe he'd just be taken down to wherever Tyler was.

David hated horror movies. He wanted light. Something didn't sit right with him. For a moment he thought about calling Jack. Then he thought about how all that would get him was a shove back towards his car. Jack wouldn't want him there anyways. Jack probably hated him.

There was a light switch just inside on the wall to the man's right. He clicked it on, hoping it would bring him at least a little comfort. The lights were dim, barely doing a thing to calm his nerves. But he continued on anyways. Tyler's screams echoed in his brain. He had to keep going. He didn't call Jack. It would get him nowhere.

Towards the back of the small shack, he found a small, concealed room. He went in, not knowing truly what to expect. All he found was a single table and about a million photo albums.

All of the pictures were of Jason Snyder. The man's deceased son.

There were so many of them. The young man looked so happy beside his father in all of them. And then, as David kept turning pages and looking through the photos, he watched as Jared's hair began falling out. He watched as the young man went from living freely to laying in a hospital bed.

He watched as Snyder said goodbye.

David's heart clenched. This man wanted his son back, that much was clear. And he was trying to fill that place. The man was broken and insane and no one had caught it quickly enough. And now Tyler would have to pay the price for that.

The operator walked back out of the house, not exactly knowing where to go next. It was clear there was nothing here. The man had nothing left to do but accept that he'd failed, accept that Jack would more than likely never speak to him again, accept that Tyler was gone.

That was when he heard it. Metal. Metal hitting metal. David froze. He clicked his flashlight back on immediately, heading directly for the source of the aggravating noise he didn't think he'd ever be able to tolerate again.

A flagpole stood tall over the ground, the clip of the rope swinging around in the wind and hitting the metal stand over and over again. That was the noise. Tyler was here.

Or had been here.

As David walked closer to it, he glanced around, searching for anywhere the boy could've been taken. The woods that surrounded him weren't completely out of the question and all the operator could do was think back to that terrified child's broken voice.

_"He's gonna bury me!"_

As the man continued looked around, praying to God for any kind of clue, he stumbled over something. His light trailed down to his feet where a patch of grass had moved from its place. David took in a shaky breath as he squatted down towards the thing. The grass was fake. At least some of it. Patches were scattered here and there over something wooden.

A door.

"Tyler..." he breathed, frantically searching for some kind of handle. When he found it he pulled the thing open immediately. "Oh my God..."

This was it. This was where Snyder had taken him. David reached for his phone, his hands shaking as he tried to figure out what to do. His fingers did their best to dial three simple numbers, but the phone was falling from his trembling palms before he could stop it.

The small device clattered at the bottom of the dark hole the young man stood above. Glancing around again, David wished someone were there to see him. No one was. And he was about to do something incredibly stupid.

He climbed down the shaky latter, going to scoop up his phone.

_No signal._

David didn't bother going back up. He just let himself keep going.

 _"We're gonna fight... you and me..."_ He meant that. He was going to fight. He was going to get to that kid. Without any kind of backup, the man continued on, in search of a little boy who didn't deserve to die. In search of a little boy who had trusted him.

The hallway was long at the bottom of that latter. The walls weren't complete. It looked like the thing had been under construction for some time now. They were just wooden sticks meant to keep the ground from caving in above him. It only meant that sound carried. He could hear gasps. Familiar, terrified, awful little pleads. "Tyler..." he muttered.

The slamming open of a door made David flinch hard. He bit his tongue, tasting blood as he held back his scream. He clicked off his light immediately, ducking down as low as he could to try and find a different way to go. He only caught a glimpse of the man as he retreated down a different hallway.

Somehow, he ended up shutting himself into a room as quietly as he could. He did his best to catch his breath, almost too scared to click his flashlight back on. His body was going numb with fear. But he did it anyways. He had to figure out what to do. Tyler was still alive. He heard him. He had to get him out of this place. That poor kid wanted his brother and damn it, David was going to get him back to him.

David shone his light around, barely able to see a thing. He could vaguely make out a bed in the middle of the room. There was a dresser up against the wall to his right. He could make out some mannequins around the room. They'd startled him at first glance. Some of them wore clothes, others of them were bare. But before David could figure out what they were for, he heard footsteps coming for him beyond the door. And in a moment of desperation, the young man clicked off his light and rushed around to hide behind the dresser's open door, praying the man wouldn't have the slightest inkling that anyone had found his secret hideaway. His Refuge.

A light switch clicked on. David bit his lip. He pressed himself into the wall. He didn't move. He couldn't, no matter how nauseous he felt at the sight.

There was so much blood.

He hadn't been able to see it in the dark. It was all over the bed. David felt sick. He watched in a horrified silence as the man paced angrily around the room. He had blood on his hands. He was sweating like mad. The operator watched in anticipation as the kidnapper walked over to a mannequin head. A mannequin head with a blond wig. A wig that looked all too real.

"Jason..." the man murmured, picking up the small thing so tenderly, like it was actually a person. He was insane. David could see it so clearly. He watched Snyder grasp his hand in the hair as he spun around to sit on the bloodied bed. Everything seemed calm enough, creepy as it was, until Snyder seemed to come to the realization that what he was holding was not a human being. "No, no, no, no, no..." he began muttering, becoming more and more frantic.

That wig was no wig. David held back the vomit that crept up in his throat as he saw what it really was. It was a scalp. A human scalp cut out of a child's head.

Benjamin Neilson.

David's mouth hung open as he did his best not to scream. His whole body trembled in pure disgust and horror as the man tore the human skin off of the doll. David could see the blood that covered the plastic. He watched as the man started screaming out. It wasn't right. He wrenched open a small refrigerator and threw the head of hair into it with force.

Nothing was right. David wasn't breathing. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. And he looked back over through the small crack between the door and the dresser only for his heart to stop. He never thought he'd die of a heart attack. This single moment, when David would swear on his life the madman he'd been hiding from locked his eyes in on him, changed all of that.

The young man squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Snyder to reveal him from his hiding spot. The man took slow, agonizing steps closer to him. He was going to die. This is the panic Tyler had felt. This was the end.

And then Snyder stopped. He took ahold of one of the sleeves in the wardrobe beside him and gripped onto it like a lifeline. Before his eyes, the man started weeping. David didn't breathe. He held his breath as long as he could, as a broken man grieved the death of his son. A son he thought he might somehow bring back.

Just when the young operator might've passed out, Snyder threw the shirt he'd been holding back into the wall. He chucked the plastic head he'd been holding in David's direction. The man held back another flinch. But he only let out his breath when Snyder stormed out of the room, harshly shutting the lights off and slamming the door behind him.

And David was once again alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... now we know what happened to Benjamin Neilson.
> 
> Alright, I am going to give you guys the opportunity again for an early chapter. 30 reviews on here and FanFiction combined. We got to 20 last week!
> 
> The next chapter is the last chapter! In this story, anyways. Though, I am working on a oneshot to come after.
> 
> I can't wait to hear from you guys!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, babes!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, back with the very last chapter! How do we feel, friends?
> 
> Alright friends... here we go...
> 
> Enjoy!

Katherine's hands were shaking. She knew they were. Watching Jack so intense right now was almost too much. She watched him barking out orders, trying so hard to forget that the boy they were looking for was his baby brother. She hadn't told him she was doing this. But she knew David too. She knew how much he'd be tearing himself apart right now.

So she found a spot out of earshot and she slid her phone out of her pocket. Typing in a familiar number she took a deep breath as the call immediately went to voicemail. "Hey, David... I..." What was she doing? Maybe she just needed a calm voice. She wouldn't get it. "I just wanted to call and see how you were doing... we haven't found him yet, but we will..." This could just make it worse. "And we're gonna find him alive," she assured.

Another shout from her boyfriend made her jump and look back at him. He just looked so angry to her. She wanted Tyler back as much as he did. He didn't know how to be this terrified. He didn't think about how this was too much for him.

"We found that Lincoln and Hearst's body... we have to be close..." She didn't know what else to say. She wished he'd just pick up the phone. "Look, just call me back when you get this... When..." she cut herself off, gasping at that word when it slipped from her lips. "If we can't find..." This couldn't be happening. "Jack is gonna need a friend. He can't work through this on his own... and I can't help him by myself..." She couldn't believe this was happening. "Just please call me back..."

Tears fell freely down her face. She wiped them away immediately. She had to be strong. For Jack, she had to be strong. And with one last glance at the empty car to her left, she rejoined the group, praying to God that she keep the small shred of hope she had left for a boy who was like her own brother.

"Please kill me... please just kill me..." Tyler was at the end of his rope. His one good eye was blurred with tears he could no longer blink away. A plastic mask covered his mouth and nose as the stranger above him drew lines on his forehead with permanent marker. Every time the boy had tried to move, making one of those marks too messy, the man would grab his chin and seethe at him, growling out how he needed to settle down before he did more than this. He had tested the threat a few times. After all, he'd rather anything else than this at the moment.

His captor picked up a small knife before long. Tyler could hardly wiggle anymore. But when he saw that blade making it way towards his forehead, he couldn't stop the himself from flinching. "Why won't you just kill me?" he whimpered, not wanting to feel the blood that was beginning to trickle down his forehead.

The man only continued as the boy got more and more lightheaded. "Hair needs a healthy blood flow," he began to explain, almost as though he wasn't even thinking about it. He was too focused on cutting on that dotted line perfectly. He only got one chance at this. It had to be perfect. "If you die... it dies too..."

But Tyler just squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he would just wake up. He was fifteen. This wasn't okay. This man wasn't supposed to just be okay with doing this. Why couldn't this man see that he was scared? "Please stop..." he begged. It was his final plea. He was going to die right now.

He'd never see Jack again. He'd never feel those strong arms around him, pulling him into a broad, strong chest, practically pulling him to his heart, keeping him safe from everything that would ever want to hurt him. He'd never hear his big brother sing to him again. He'd never get to make fun of his cooking or watch him get lost in his painting ever again. He'd never get to see Charlie again. He'd never get to lift him up on his shoulders and hear the kid laugh. He'd never get to watch that kid grow up to change the world with just one leg. He'd never see his smile again or tickle him again or be the one to run over to his bed when he was having a nightmare.

This was it. He was dying. And there was no one there to stop it.

"Stop!"

The sound of metal colliding with a skull rang out in the small space. David hit him more times that necessary with a shovel he'd found laying in the hallway, stepping over the madman as he fell to the ground, simply not having eyes for him. All he had eyes for was that child breathing slowly in the middle of that torture chamber. "Oh my God..." he muttered, not even knowing where to start.

The kid was bleeding, for one. The cut on his forehead was deep. Far too deep. His right eye was completely swollen shut. The mask over his airways kept him drowsy. He was strapped down to the chair he was in with duct tape. It was horrible. The boy needed out. David had to get him out.

The first thing the operator did was gently slip that mask of the boy. The kid didn't seem too responsive to the gesture, but that didn't stop David. He ran a soft hand through the blond curls on his head, shushing the kid when he whimpered. "It's okay, it's okay..." he tried softly. At the gentleness, those crystal blue eyes drearily slid open. "Don't worry, it'll all be okay..." He didn't know who he was trying to assure anymore. He just couldn't believe the boy was here, alive. Hurt, but alive.

The kid struggled weakly, as much as he could by the looks of it. He was tired. "Wh-who are you...?" he asked, his voice breaking at every syllable. It almost sounded like he was drowning. The poor boy's one working eye was hardly open.

Shaking his head and shushing him again, David smoothed his hair back, trying to get a better look at the wound on the child's head. "Just stay calm, buddy... it's okay..." Then he realized he needed to get the kid untied. He looked around until he found scissors. Immediately, he began to cut at the tape that held the child down.

That was when the boy started waking up a little. The voice clicked in his brain as he started to look around, not fully understanding what was going on. "David?" he asked unsure and more hopeful than he had ever been. It couldn't be David. Why would David come for him?

A small smile took over the operator's lips. "Yeah... yeah, pal... it's David... I'm right here..." And this time, he was. He was right there. And he'd be damned before he let anything happen to this kid again. "I'm right here..." he assured again, being more gentle than he'd ever been in his life.

For a moment, the child seemed to relax, tears filling up his eyes as he thought maybe he was getting out of this. But then David saw the boy's eye widen as he glanced over his shoulder. He barely got out a panicked, "David!" just as the man had finished cutting his wrists free. And the operator felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, shoving him away from the kid. But he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Blindly taking a few swings, he managed to shove the clearly stronger man back, only to lose balance and fall to the ground whilst Snyder only got more angry. David didn't have time to even attempt to get up before the man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, throwing him backwards until his back hit a large sink. He couldn't even think before he was shoved around and his face was submerged in the cold water.

Race could barely move. He was terrified. He watched with wide eyes as the man that had been his only safety was being shoved to his death. He pulled at his still partially bound wrist, gasping when he realized he could still hardly move. But that man had come for him. He couldn't just sit there. This was his only way out. He had to fight. So he grabbed those scissors in his hands, knowing what he had to do.

Spots began filling up in David's vision as he fought against the hold on his neck and his hair. This was it. He was going to die. This would be it. He was going to die at the hands of the man that had been haunting him for so long. He almost gave into the darkness, all hope draining out of him as the freezing cold water took over his whole head, before he felt himself be released from the awful grip.

Choking and sputtering, the man stumbled back, doing his best not to fall down on his ass right then and there. He looked up to see the kidnapper screaming in pain as Tyler stood wobbly by, staring down in shock at the bloodied pair of scissors in his own hands. David didn't waste a second. He grabbed the boy's arm, pulling the kid behind him as he tried to assess the situation.

The man hadn't gone down. He was just enraged. Maybe just a little bit weaker. They watched, breathing hard, as Snyder reached to the open wound in his back, his hand coming back red. And then he looked up at them, ready to kill. "Tyler, run..." David commanded softly, not taking his eyes off the man. But the child hesitated. "Go!" he cried, shoving the boy in the direction of the outside world. The he shoved the chair in the center of the room towards the madman and ran too.

If there was one thing David was sure of, it's that Jack damn well knew what he was talking about when he came up with all of the stupid nicknames he did. Tyler was quick. Whether it was adrenaline or something else, David didn't know. But that boy was fast. By the time he got to the ladder, Race was already at the top, standing in the grass, anxiously waiting for David to climb up with him.

They almost made it. They were almost free.

David was halfway up the ladder when he felt a hand grab at his leg. A surge of adrenaline made him jump up until he was able to pull himself onto the grass, kicking at the man behind him. When he made it up, he grabbed Tyler's arm, running in the direction of his car. But that man was quick. Before he knew it, the child was wrenched away from him.

But Tyler wasn't done fighting either.

The child lashed out, managing to elbow his captor in the gut, loosening his grip enough to fight his way out of his arms. David managed to rush up and punch the man in the jaw, once again doing his best to place himself between the kid and the madman. But the man grabbed David by the front of his shirt and threw him to the ground, causing him to cry out. Again he kicked at the man, stumbling to his feet and trying to get away. It was the second that he turned his back that he heard a pained cry. And it didn't belong to the fifteen year old.

Turning around slowly, he watched as the man blinked in surprise. He saw Race backing away in horror. The scissors were no longer in his hand. David shook his head, rushing forward and taking a chance. He shoved the guy back, watching him stumble into the trap door he'd built to torture and murder innocent children.

Snyder gasped, grasping desperately at the grass, tying to steady himself. He couldn't reach the latter. He couldn't get back up. In pure desperation, he reached out, silently begging someone to help him up. But the second he looked at that little boy, the terrified look in his deep blue eyes quickly turned to anger. The boy slowly walked to him, lifting up his foot, and kicking the man right in the face.

He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Staring in shock for a moment, breathing hard, David tried to figure out what he was supposed to do. Pure instinct caused him to feel around wildly for his cell phone, before a small voice made him pause. "Wait!" Tyler called, his voice cracking, so weak it probably hurt. David looked up at him, his heart breaking at the sight of the poor kid. He looked like a walking medical experiment with those lines on his forehead and that swollen, black eye.

The second their eyes connected, a plan formulated between them. All David could do was nod before the fear melted away, only to be replaced with a kind of anger that he'd never be able to explain ever again. And then he slipped back down into that hole, prepared to do what he could be severely punished for later.

When Snyder came to, his whole body hurt. Sweat dropped down his forehead as he tried to remember what happened last. It was all a blur. He made a move to get up. He had to finish the job before something happened. But when he tried to move his arms, he found he couldn't. He found he was trapped. That's when the surge of panic set in.

"You should've listened to me, Jameson Snyder..." came a voice from behind him. The man twisted himself as much as he could. His arms and legs were strapped down. He couldn't move.

David walked cautiously, almost scared that this man might somehow have super human strength. He went to face him, Race not far behind him, trying his best not to look as petrified as they both knew he was. "You should've turned yourself in while you had the chance."

Snyder cocked his head, confused. A boy- the boy, the one that looked so much like his son, rounded on the other side of him, but he couldn't place the man. He didn't know who he was. And then it dawned on him.

"Oh..." he grinned suddenly, laughing as it hit him. "You're the operator..." Appalled that the man would laugh at such a thing, David nodded. He didn't understand. Insane or not, this was a child's life that had almost been lost. It wasn't a joke.

"You're taller than I expected," the man joked, a smile still playing at his lips as he let his eyes trail over to his captive who now looked angry, though the fear was still clear in his eyes... _eye_... "So... when do the police get here?"

David and Tyler shared a small look of confusion. "Police?" the operator asked. Tyler just shrugged turning back to the man who'd taken him away from everything he'd ever known and planned to kill him without giving him a say or even letting him say goodbye.

"I escaped..." Tyler stated, as if it were true. It was. As of right now, Tyler Kelly had escaped from a madman. "David found me in the woods..." His voice still shook. His throat was raw. He was so, so tired. "And you..." the child whispered, leaning a little bit closer to the man. Jack wouldn't be scared. Jack would let the man know he didn't have the power anymore. So Tyler would too. "You disappeared..."

If nothing else, this whole thing was worth it just to see the flash of fear in Snyder's eyes. "What?" Tyler walked away, past David, feeling safer when he was behind the man. David put a hand on his shoulder as they made it to the door, the one that had encased Tyler only an hour before. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?!"

David didn't even turn as the man screamed, spitting at him and struggling against the tape and chains that held him down. "Hey! Where're you going, you bastard!" At that, the younger man did turn, keeping the child fiercely behind him. "You're just an operator, you can't do this!" The desperation in the man's eyes was clear. David could hear Race screaming for him all over again, screaming for Jack, that desperate tone making him just about go insane. "You can't..."

David believed in an eye for an eye.

"It's already done."

And then that door was slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know... "HOW DARE YOU END IT HERE" but guys... Cmon... that was kind of badass on David's part.
> 
> I am working on a oneshot. Because I know y'all wanna see Jack and Race reunite. Don't worry. I do too. So be on the lookout for that! I'm hoping it'll be up next Monday!
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you who stuck with this piece for the past twelve weeks! I'm so so glad you all enjoyed it!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, fansies!

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. How are we feeling? Stressed? Me too. I'll be back next Monday with an update unless I get 10 reviews before then? Maybe? If anyone's interested.
> 
> I know... I'm awful.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, babes!
> 
> Tumblr— @SomedayonBroadway

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [An Officer and a Victim](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20642441) by [Doggerwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doggerwolf/pseuds/Doggerwolf)




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